I'm fighting for you
by theworldbiggestfan
Summary: In a marriage, there is not always sunshine
1. Chapter 1

I posted this story (at least the first chapter) under a different name (lunasthequibbler). Unfortunately, I lost all my data (E-Mail passwords etc.). But I promised myself, to finish each story, I'm continuing this under another name

P.S. My english grammar is still abysmal, but I love fanfictions in english, so: sorry!

* * *

He did not know, how long he was already in the shower, but he could no longer hear laughter and murmurs of his teammates from adjoining changing room. Relieved, he braced himself with both arms on the shower wall and closed his eyes, while the water continue to pattered on his back. As he began – despite the warm water – to shiver, he turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Barefooted (the unheeded flip-flops, a gift from his wife, were in his locker), he tapped into the changing room and dressed without ruffles or excitement.

Sighing, he closed the door to his locker and left the room with heavy steps.

No one paid attention at the young man with red hair, who stood with his head bowed in the back corner of the elevator, and if they were, he did not notice it.

Before he opened the door to the reception, he ran a hand through his still slightly damp hair and stretched himself out to his full height.

The sight, that awaited him there, made his already shitty day not even better, on the contrary. On the corner of the desk sat in a casual pose the darling of the female ministry employees and – according to the rumor mill (and not to forget of his brother Percy's) – the future head of the department, the slick David Whitaker. He nodded briefly to David and turned to Hilda Graham, the secretary of his wife, who looked at him inquiringly over the rim of her glasses. He refused the wasted effort to smile and greeted her curtly: "Mrs. Graham!"

"Auror Weasley?"

There it was again, the question mark behind his name, which testified, what she really thought, namely: WHAT DO YOU WANT HERE!

The Auror saw from the corner of his eye, how an arrogant smirking David flipped a lint from his jacket. Ron gritted his teeth and counted inwardly to 10. Meanwhile, Mrs. Graham glanced with pursed lips at her – or more precisely – Hermiones busy schedule.

"Mrs. Graham, I know and you know, that there…", he pointed to the busy schedule, "my name does not appear. However, I hope, my wife greets me even without prior appointment." He added jokingly, although he felt like crying.

Silently, Mrs. Graham stood up from her chair and disappeared after a short call waiting in Hermione's office.

"Women!" laughed David and shook his head. He slid off the corner of the desk and gave Ron a clap on the shoulder. Then he strolled in the direction of his office, that was directly across from Hermione's.

Lost in thought Ron looked at David's closed office door, until a clearing of a throat tore him from his gloomy thoughts. He turned around to Mrs. Graham, who held in a surly manner the door to the Hermione's office open. He resisted the impulse, to make a bow, and contented himself with a nod and a short "Thank you!"

He had hardly entered the office, as his wife asked him already with a sigh: "What's going on?" Ron bitterly remarked, that she did not even bother, to look up from her papers. He swallowed his frustration and asked, seemingly cheerful: "I thought, I will take you to dinner.."

Her brow furrowed and she pointed with her quill on the papers in front of her: "As you can see, I still have a lot of work to do before the presentation."

After a few seconds of silence, she mumbled absent-minded: "Do you have anything else on your mind?" Ron bit back a snide reply and shook his head, although he knew, she could not see the gesture. Just, as he was about to grasp the door handle, the door opened and Mrs. Graham poked her head into the room: "Mrs. Undersecretary, I should remind you of your date with the minister." She cast a pointed glance at Ron, who raised both hands in surrender and muttered: "Don't worry, I'm already gone."

"Ron!", called his wife suddenly.

Ron stopped in the doorway: "Yes?"

"Since you apparently have plenty of time, be a sweetheart and pick up from Madam Malkin's the ordered gift for Harry."

Ron closed his hand into a fist: "Of course.." and added quietly to himself, "at your command Mrs. Undersecretary!"

* * *

An hour later he headed with a package under the arm towards his brother's shop. As always, the Diagon Alley was bustling with activity and so it was no wonder, that Ron almost did not hear the calling of his name: "Ronald!". He glanced searching around, until he saw outside the pub "The Leaky Cauldron" his former classmate and one of his closest friends, Luna Lovegood, who currently waved wildly with her hand. Grinning, he waved back, before he without a second thought pushed through the crowds to the pub.

Beaming, he stopped in front of her: "Hi Loo…, uh, Luna, how are you?"

She smiled softly: "I felt never better and you?"

He winked: "Likewise, now, where I'm face to face with.." He cleared his throat, "and I quote here 'The Daily Prophet', the most famous wizarding naturalist our time!"

Embarrassed, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

He smiled warmly at her and nodded with his head to the pub: "Come on, let's go inside."

She nodded and went ahead.

After Ron had ordered two butter beer, he asked Luna curious: "I thought, Rolf and you are traveling the world in search of the Kacky Snorgle."

She rolled her eyes and he bit his lip, to hide his laughter: "Rolf convinced me, that some creatures simply do not exist – unfortunately, the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks is one of the nonexistent Fantasy Creatures."

"Oh, that must have been a bitter blow for you!?"

She shook her head: "Out there are still plenty of undiscovered things to be explored. Next week, for instance, I start an expedition through the Amazons, where apparently Blibbering Humdingers have been sighted."

"Together with Rolf?"

She sighed crestfallen: "Unfortunately not. He has Chicken Pox and must therefore stay behind."

"And, you cannot postpone the trip?"

"The air tickets are already booked and in a few months begins the rainy season."

"You travel via Muggle transport, uh, I mean with an airplane?"

"For the distance to South America, that is the best way to travel, and I need only two port keys from the airport to the destination, but a large part of the journey involves a long walk through the jungle."

„That sounds like fun." He chuckled.

Her eyes lit up: "I can hardly wait!" Of this, Ron was really convinced.

He leaned forward and squeezed her hand, which lay on the table: "Tell me more about this expedition."

As Luna told him with shining eyes about her planned adventures, Ron regarded her thoughtfully. Suddenly he saw her with different eyes, that was not longer the, admittedly, weird girl from his school days, this was a woman, who had already found her life purpose.

He felt a pang of envy and blurted out: "I almost wish, I could join you."

"Why not, you could help me with the cataloging and photography."

He snorted: "You are joking, as if I were a great help."

She looked at him in surprise: "Why should I joking?".

* * *

Ron sat down on the edge of the bed and untied his wristwatch. He glanced over his shoulder at his wife: "By the way, I met Luna today."

Hermione looked up from her book: "Oh, how is she doing?"

"Really good, she goes next week on a new expedition."

"Nice!" She turned back to her book.

"Yeah, nice.", Ron muttered and got into bed. He rolled onto his side and shut his eyes, in the hope for a quick and deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

Harry held up the new traveling cloak: "Great, a new coat."

Hermione beamed: "I knew, you'd be pleased about it."

Harry packed the gift aside and hugged Hermione: "Thanks again, I swear, I will cherish and care the coat." He saw over Hemione's shoulder at Ron, who grinned and mouthed: "Not my idea."

Ginny bounced her son on her lap: "And I can finally dispose Daddy's old holey coat." Harry gulped and smiled weakly: "Yeah, finally." Ron smirked inwardly, Harry loved his 'old' coat over everything.

Molly clapped her hands: " Now that all the gifts are unwrapped, it's time for the cake." She vanished into the kitchen.

George stood next to Ron and slapped him on the shoulder: "And how are we, Mr. Under Secretary, something exciting happened?"

Ron knew, that his brother wanted only to tease and on any other day, he would have just laughed or given him a quick-witted response – optionally both, but not today: "To be honest yes. I'm considering to take a break from my work as an Auror and joining Luna Lovegood on her next expedition in in the jungle."

Abruptly, it was quiet as a mouse in the living room.

Hermione narrowed her eyes: "Excuse me?"

George nudged his brother with his shoulder: "Good one, ickle Ronnekin, go on a expewhatever and on top of that, with Loony."

"It's called expedition and her name is Luna.", his sister-in-law snapped, as she glared at her husband.

At that moment Molly, who was beaming from ear to ear, came with the birthday cake for Harry in the room: "Before I cut the cake, Harry has first to blow out the candles…". She froze and looked questioningly around, until her look got stuck at Ron: "What's going on."

Ron cleared his throat and pointed to the cake: "Is that a strawberry cream cake?"

Her brow furrowed and she placed the cake on the table: "Yes, Harry's favorite …" She paused and put per hands on her hips: "Ronald Weasley, don't change the subject!"

"Your son has the glorious idea, to go with Luna on the search for non-existent creatures, that's going on!" Hermione hissed.

Molly shook her head in disbelief: "Rubbish, why would he do that."

Her daughter-in-law replied with barely suppressed anger: "Apparently he finds his job as an Auror and his life in general as too boring."

All eyes were on Ron, who stuck his hands in his pockets.

Fleur smiled at him: "Why not? He takes only a little time out and don't not quit his job, right?!"

Ron smiled warmly at her: "Exactly!"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest: "And how long take this 'time out'?"

"Two or three weeks, maybe a month." Hermione and Molly gasped.

"Do you have to have so many vacation days left?" Harry asked in amazement.

Ron rubbed his neck: "Unfortunately not, I will take one month unpaid leave."

Percy asked curiously: "And how do you want pay the travel costs?"

"Since we stay in a tent, these…"

"I beg your pardon!", interrupted his mother with sparkling eyes, "you're staying together with another woman…."

"Mum, it's Luna, also hardly a bombshell!" George snickered. His girlfriend slapped him upset on the back of the head, whilst she glanced apologetically at Molly

Molly continued with raised voice: "….in a tent?"

Ron rolled his eyes: "Calm down, Mum, it accompanies us three elves.." He glanced at his wife, "don't worry Hermione, paid elves, besides Luna is engaged. "

Hermione patted Molly's arm and sneered: "Trust me, Molly, camping is do not his thing, no later than a week he's anyways back, right, Harry?"

Ron had the feeling, as if one had poured him a bucket of ice water over his head.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed aghast.

Arthur coughed awkwardly and shoved his son-in-law towards the cake: " Harry, I guess, it's time to blow out the candles."

Bill nodded: "Dad is right. I'll get the children." And Angeline shouted: "And I hand out the plates. Who would like a piece of strawberry cream cake?"

George grumbled: "You mean rather, who don't want a piece."

Ron grabbed his jacket and disappeared with the muttered words "I'll be right back." through the door to the outside.

Hermione stood petrified in the room and saw with tears in her eyes out the window. Ginny approached her friend and also glanced out the window: "You know him, he just needs to cool down!"

* * *

Ron knelt before the grave stone and ran his finger over the letters of the word 'Fred'.

"Hey mate, if you don't hurry up, is nothing left of the cake."

His friend got up and brushed the dirt off his pants: "Frankly, my appetite is gone."

Harry's smile faded: "Ron, you can believe me, she is very sorry and I bet, she regretted her words as soon as she uttered these."

Ron sighed: "This does not change the fact that, that she will never forgive me for leaving, even she claims the opposite."

His friend opened his mouth, to contradict him, but Ron waved off: "It's okay, I don't forgive myself for it."

Both dwelled on their thoughts, as they walked slowly back to the house. All at once Ron stopped and Harry looked at him questioningly. Ron grinned and reached into his jacket pocket: "Wait, I have here a another gift for you." He pressed Harry a small package into the hand. "I know, I cannot beat the coat.." – Harry chuckled. – "What? It's still better, than the homework planner, okay, joking aside, I hope, this..", he nodded to his gift, "gives you a little joy."

Excited he watched, as Harry opened the cover of the package. Harry looked speechless into the package, until he finally muttered: "Wow!". He took the Swiss Army knife out the package and examined it admiringly: "Oh Merlin, as a 13 year old boy I would have given anything for this pocket knife." Ron nodded: "And now you finally have one."

Harry beamed: "Yes, it has only taken 11 years." He threw his head back and screamed into the sky: "Fuck you, Uncle Vernon, I hope, you see that."

Ron laughed.

"This is the best gift in my life and a better friend than you, Ronald Weasley, don't exist."

His best friend blushed: "Nah, you exaggerate. And I also had a little help from my mother in law."

"But you don't forget, that I've wanted this pocket knife."

"No wonder, you carried around the flyer from the Muggle shop for months with you." He stroked seemingly thoughtful his chin: "I vaguely remember, that you have kissed the image of the knife before sleep."

Harry gave him a push: "Idiot!"

Ron laughed: "Tsk, tsk, a moment ago I was the best friend a wizard could wish for and now I'm an Idiot?"

"The one excludes not exclude the other, my friend."

"True. Come on, Harry, let's see what's so special about this knife."

* * *

Hermione leaned against the door frame and clutched her tea mug with both: "I still cannot believe it, you of all other, goes with Luna on an Expedition through the jungle." – Unaffected, Ron closed the zipper of his bag and stuffed it in his backpack. – "…the Ronald Weasley, who runs away from a little house spider."

Her husband's body stiffened: "What do you mean by that?"

"Did not you know, that are located huge spiders in the jungle of the Amazon"

Ron gulped: "Surely you mean large."

"Nope, huge."

He held his thumb and forefinger 4 inches apart: "Larger than.."

"Much larger." She pushed away from the door frame: "I think, I have a book with photos."

He croaked horrified: "You have a book with pictures of spiders in our flat?"

"Actually, an illustrated book from Amazonas" She disappeared into the living room, probably to fetch that mentioned book from the bookshelf.

Ron called after her: "Do not bother, besides I gotta go in…." he glanced down at his wristwatch, "in 15 minutes".

His wife appeared with a thick book in the doorway: "Are you sure?" She opened the book and pointed to a picture: "Look here, the Siracus, which it is also called six-eyed sand spider, is about the size of a palm of hand!"

He gave her a wry smile: "If it is the palm of James, it is not bad.."

"It is rather the size of the palm of your hand and…" – Ron looked his hand. – She paused: "Oops!"

"What?" Ron shouted.

She slammed the book shut: "Nothing."

"Usually a 'oops' from you don't mean 'nothing', so out with it!"

"It is also toxic."

Relieved, Ron breathed a blast of air out: "That's all, I thought they ate people!"

"Fortunately, not, but maybe you have the pleasure, to eat a grilled giant tarantula. I have read, that these tarantulas are the favorite food of the tribe of the Piaroa."

Ron's face color became slightly greenish color: "Please tell me, that you're kidding." - Hermione shook her head. – "Bloody hell." – "Language!" – "They eat sp..spiders." Ron flinched at the launch.

His wife watched her husband tensioned, that was for no one an amusing idea, but for a man, who was afraid of spiders….

Ron glanced down at his backpack, thought for a moment and then swung one strap of his backpack over his shoulder. On the way in the living room, he called over his shoulder: "Well, then I can only hope, that the elves don't belong to this tribe."

Hermione looked behind her husband in disbelief: " You still want to go?"

"Sure, I stand by my word!"

Hermione followed her husband: "But you are scared of spiders, you hate camping…"

He shrugged his shoulders: "What does not destroy me, makes me stronger." He took an apple from the fruit bowl, which stood on the coffee table, and grinned at her: "Food for the journey."

She shoved the book back full of repressed fury into the bookshelf. Before she turned to face her husband, she forced herself to take a deep breath: "Listen, Ron. I'm 100% sure, that Luna will understand, if you step back. Instead, you can visit Charlie for a few days in Romania..."

"Where I'll be grilled by a dragon, instead of eating grilled spider, thanks!"

She lifted her voice: "Don't exaggerate, you're always coming back without a single scratch from Romania."

"There always has to be a first time" He replied calmly and grabbed some floo powder from the pot next to the fireplace.

"You are childish..", she stomped her foot, "the whole thing is childish."

He raised his eyebrows and cast a pointed look at her foot.

"Fine, then go in the jungle, where you can live out your self-discovery trip with Blibbering Humdingers, Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and, and….." She waved her hands in the air.

He rolled his eyes, "Are you finished?"

When he was about to throw a handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace, Hermione cried suddenly: "Wait a moment..", she stood in front of him and zipped up his jacket: "Much better." For a moment both looked into the eyes of the other.

Just as Ron lifted his hand, to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, he was interrupted by a gentle knocking on the window pane. Immediately, Hermione took a step back and pulled her wand from her back pocket: "Alohomora window!"

After that, the window opened and an owl Atalanta flew in, David Whitaker's Owl!

Ron stared at the owl sitting on the back of HIS armchair, while his wife hurriedly removed the message from the owl's leg and offered it some treat.

Hermione, engrossed in the message, did not even notice, that her husband in the meantime tossed the powder into the fireplace. After a last look he stepped into the emerald green fire and left.


	2. Chapter 2

Her garden was her balance to her work as a dentist, her refuge. At first, her husband derided her for her new passion, but once he realized, how much of fun and joy gardening gave her, he refrained from any gibe and supported her.

So it was no wonder, that she used her free afternoon for urgent upcoming gardening. A wonder was however, that her daughter had volunteered to help her. And that could mean only one thing: There's something in the bush!

With a sigh, Jean Granger leaned on the rake and glanced around: "Not the royal garden, but already close, don't you think?" She turned with a grin to her daughter and dropped the rake in horror. "Honey, what are you doing?"

Hermione growled through clenched teeth: "I" _**thud**_ "pluck" _**thud**_ "the" _**thud**_ "bloody" _**thud**_ "weed" _**thud **_"out, what else." And slammed the weed hoe with force into the ground once again.

Jean winced inwardly after each subsequent '**thud**' of the weed hoe: "But the whole point is, working in the garden work should help you relax."

_**Thud**_ "I'm" _**Thud**_ "relaxed." _**Thud**_.

Jean doubted this, since Hermione's bushy hair and red face spoke a different tune. She picked up the rake (David still complained about his bulge) and forced a smile: "I don't know about you, but I could use a little break!"

Her daughter looked up: "Already?"

Jean nodded and fanned herself with her hand: "It is just too hot. Besides, I'm no that young anymore and I know my physical limit."

Hermione snorted: "Mum, you're not even fifty and fit as a fiddle!"

Her mother took the hoe out of Hermione's hand and winked: "And to keep it that way, I allow myself a well earned break – and the same to you, don't argue!"

Her daughter admitted her defeat with a sigh and went through the open patio door into the house. After a last sad look at the remains of her wild flowers, Jean followed her in the house.

"Iced Tea?", she asked, as she stripped off the gardening gloves.

"I would prefer Firewhiskey!", Hermione muttered.

"Worse day?", her mother asked gently, and handed her a glass of iced tea.

Hermione smiled wryly: "More likely a worse week."

Jean laid her hands on the back of a chair and she looked at her invitingly: "I'm a good listener."

Her daughter looked at a drop of water, which ran down the glass. Slowly she followed the drop with her finger.

"Is it because of Ron?" She asked softly

"Yes, no." A sigh. "It is complicated."

"All right, I'll tell you how I see it. Your husband desperately needed distance from –"

Hermione growled angrily: "The only reason, why he went on the stupid expedition, is, because his life is too boring for him."

Horrified, her mother looked at her: " You really think that?"

Hermione did not answer and gazed still at her glass.

'Sometimes silence says more than a thousand words'. Jean sadly thought: "Honey, I'm firmly convinced, that Ron is not looking for adventure. I think, no, I **know**, that he is just looking for a distraction."

"Distraction from what? From his family or perhaps from me?"

"Of course not! I know, he says otherwise, but in my eyes, he still blames himself for the death of this 17 year old young members of this group with the creepy name-"

Her daughter frowned: "Death Eaters?"

"Right." She shuddered with revulsion. "what a horrible nam–."

"Mum, what you're talking about?" Hermione interrupted her impatiently.

She stared at her daughter in disbelief: "I'm talking about the reason for Ron's sleepless nights, compunction and sadness."

Her daugther swallowed and croaked: "He told me nothing about it and I..I don't notice anything."

Shocked, Jean put her hands on her hips: "What?"

* * *

Ron stepped out of the tent and stretched his arms above his head: "Good morning!" Luna looked up from one of the boxes with found objects and waved at him: "Slept well?"

"Like a baby." He glanced around the camp: "Where are the elves?"

"Fetching water. Tea?"

"Maybe later. I'll go first of all to the lake." He winked, "I need to make myself a little more presentable, before we return to the Wizarding World."

She smiled dreamily: "You should try a waterfall shower, just heavenly."

Ron swalloed, trying, to dislodge the image of his naked wife under the waterfall: "Yeah, really tempting."

Shaking his head about himself, he went back to the tent, to pick up his washing suit and towel. He waved briefly to Luna and set out - cheerfully whistling (and in the hope, to keep away dangerous animals) - his way to the nearby lake with the waterfall. Already from afar he heard the babble of the three elves. He chuckled, the three remembered him of 'the Three Stooges', a Muggle comedy troupe, which his father-in-law like to watch.

When he arrived at the lake, he was greeted by the three with the usual "Master Redbeard!". He nodded to them: "Good morning." and glanced around mistrustful. The elves watched him curiously. Embarrassed, he rubbed his neck and asked: "Any spiders?" – The largest of the three replied seriously: "No spiders, spiders are gone."

Relieved, he placed his bag on a rock and knelt beside the water's edge. Before he dipped his toothbrush into the water, he stopped briefly, to look at his reflection in the water. No wonder, that the elves called him recently 'Master Redbeard'. He grimaced and passed his hand through the cool water, so that his image blurred.

After his quick wash, he sat down on the rock (of course not without convincing himself beforehand that it was a spinfree area, true to his motto 'Better safe than sorry') and thought back to the last few weeks. Although they had not been spotted – not even a trace – of a Blibbering Humdinger, Luna's mood remained cheerful. On the contrary, with her typical dreamy she told him: "Xochiquetzal* was so gracious and let us discovered some new magical plants. Just think, how Neville will be delighted about it." How much easier would be his life, if he had her sunny nature. She would have been a better part of the trio, than he.

"Stop it – it is a part of your past, and cannot be changed.", he grumbled to himself, "Soak the here and now. The new experiences, that you have collected, this beautiful place with the magnificent waterfall…, wait, waterfall!" He grinned: "Yeah, a shower would be nice."

He sprang up with renewed vigor and glanced around, no one within sight, the elves had already disappeared with the water barrel. Preventively, he listened, but no chatter of the Elves. Alright, now or never. While he undressed in record time (after a moment's hesitation, he also removed his boxer shorts), he remembered a little wistfully at the beginning of his relationship with Hermione, within a very short time, she was a true champion in undressing him.

Carefully, he slid into the water, bloody hell, the water was so cold, that he could hardly breathe. He waited a moment, until his breathing had returned to normal. He tucked his wand in his mouth and swam to the waterfall, which lay on a hill. He climbed up the slippery stones and laid his wand to the side. As he placed himself under the stream of water, he cried enthusiastically: "Fucking hell, this is bloody fantastic."

* * *

Hermione looked at her mother incredulously: "Mum, this is Dad's best Scotch Whisky and moreover it is only 16.00 clock."

Jean shrugged her shoulders and poured her daughter, and after brief hesitation, herself a glass scotch: "Desperate times call for desperate measures." Then she exclaimed "Cheers!" and took a long sip from her glass. "Okay, that explains the term fire water," she croaked afterwards. Her daughter nodded and shuddered.

"That idiot!", Hermione muttered suddenly, "There comes along a stupid 17 year, who has no scruples to kill him and who feels guilty – Mister gulity-complex-in person, my husband!"

Jean patted her hand comfortingly: "We both know, that he had no other choice, but he believes, that the boy's death was pointless and unnecessary."

"And even worse is, that he told me nothing of the incident. I'm finally his wife!", Hermione asked desperately.

Her mother raised her eyebrow: "Are you sure, that he did not do it, in his own way?"

"I would have.."

Jean lifted her hand: "Hermione, you're my daughter and I love you with all my heart, but I think, it is time for some inconvenient truths. But beforehand.." She picked up her glass and took another sip. "Holy crap!"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"What? The stuff burns. Where was I? Oh yes, your relationship problems. No, don't interrupt me. Since you've been promoted to undersecretary, and you know we are all very proud of you, your priorities have changed. Now your work is second to none. Even Harry's needs are further up, than the needs and worries of your own husband."

Her daughter opened her mouth, probably to defend herself.

Jean waved her hand: "I'm not finished yet. Every night, you come home late from work. In the last months we have seen him more, than you, what of course is no problem, we love Ron like our own son." Her tone became softer: "But it would not hurt, if you're home for dinner. The poor boy was tired, to eat every night alone, he always went out to eat. A wise man once said, you are happily married, when you rather come home, than going away."

Her daugther grabbed her glass with whiskey and grumbled: "Yeah, and my husband prefer a trip through the jungle, what does this tell us?!" before she took a deep draft from her glass.

"Surely the Expedition was a stupid idea, but I'll tell you the same thing, that has already told me my mother. Men want supporting. Show him, therefore, that you are on his side – even if you don't share his opinion."

"Oh Merlin, in your eyes I'm terrible wife, who makes her husband miserable, right?"

"That is, please excuse the harsh word, bullshit. Sure for the award 'Wife of the Year' I would not nominate you, at least not currently…." – Her daughter lowered her gaze and whispered shakily: "Me neither." – "But it takes two to tango. Ron is not much better with his difficulties to communicate. Not without reason are the cornerstones of a happy relationship 'communication, trust, respect, togetherness' and last but not least, "she winked, "a fulfilling sex life."

Hermione blushed and screamed: "Mum!"

Jean shrugged her shoulders and giggled: "Come on, it's true. And it seems to me, in this area you both have no trouble."

Abashed, Hermione covered her face with her hands and groaned.

"Now that this is settled, your efforts to increase the togetherness."

"What should I do? Give up my job, play for him the housewife?" Hermione's voice came out muffled though her hands.

"In no case, we no longer live in the fifties. You are Hermione Granger, sorry, Weasley, for heaven's sake – you can do anything, also a good wife and career woman."

Her daughter looked up and grinned slightly: "You don't believe, that Ron wants a wife like his mum?"

"Are you kidding me? He needs and wants an equivalent partner, who challenges and not mothered him. Although, if you give him – now and then – the feeling to admire him and look up at him, his star will shine a little brighter, and his self-esteem gets a nice thrust upward."

Hemione's eyes twinkled mischievously: "Have I ever told you, that Ron's aunt Muriel gave me the book 'The compendium for the good married witch' for our wedding?!" – "The compendium for the good married witch?" – "Mmh, a summary, how a witch has to be in the marriage. You know, such as 'spoil him' or 'a good wife always knows her place'!"

Jean gasped: "This is not serious!"

"Offer him, to take off his shoes, he is the master of the house"

"You've actually read this rubbish?"

"Of course! And after that, it flew immediately in the trash."

The two women looked at each other and began to laugh heartily.

As the laughter subsided, Jean refilled their glasses and asked casually: "What do you think about children? You may not a housewife à la Molly, but Dad and I hope for grandchildren, if possible, before we are old and frail."

"Mum, I'm only twenty-four and ….."

"Twenty-five in a month, and suddenly you're thirty. It is not so easy to become pregnant, believe me, or why do you think, you are our only child!"

Hermione gasped: "You wanted more children?"

Her mother nodded approvingly: "Unfortunately, it did not work. But…", Jean smiled at her lovingly: "We cannot complain, we have the best daughter in the world."

"You must be joking, I'm career-obsessed.."

Jean nodded.

"A Know-it-all."

Jean nodded.

"Insensitive?"

Jean nodded and lifted her finger: "not to forget, a little stubborn "

"Mum, you must not disagree with me!"

"I now! Hey, don't pout." Laughing, she closed her daughter in her arms.

After a while Hermione asked timidly: "Mum?" – "Hmm?" – "Do you think Ron still loves me?" Jean leaned back and looked at her daughter speechless. – Hermione swallowed: "He has not even said goodbye." - Jean brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and smiled: "Honey, Ronald Weasley still loves you beyond all measure".

Relieved, Hermione burst into tears and her mother embraced her comfortingly: "Sssh, ssh, everything will be fine. He will be back soon, then you can express yourself. Especially since absence makes the heart grow fonder."

* * *

_Clack_ "Ouch!", cursing, Ron rubbed his shoulder. _Clack_ \- another pebble hit him, this time at the back of the head. "What's the fuck!" Angrily, he grabbed his wand and looked around. _Clack, clack_ – more and more stones flew at him. He held his arms protectively over the head and stumbled forward. And then the inevitable happened, he slipped on the wet stones and fell headfirst into the lake.

When he emerged spluttering and coughing at the water surfaces, he clutched a rock with one hand and with the other his wand - ready to attack. Something was in the lake and touched him under water. His hair on his arms stood on end, but he forced himself to breathe calmly. Apparating was no question, Luna would probably get a cardiac arrest, when he ended up naked at the camp, and not to forget, his wife his head or a other important part of his body. It remains only the Patronus Charm.

He closed his eyes and thought of one of his happiest memory (the first time, as Hermione 'I love you' to him said), while he drew with his wand circles : "Expecto Patronum".

As he opened his eyes, his Patronus, a Jack Russell-Terrier, stood wagging at the shore. Relieved, he shouted the message to him: "Luna, come quickly, I need your help." Immediately, his Patronus rushed off.

While awaiting the "plong" of the Apparition, he peered into the water, in the hope, to see something. But he could only see hazy outlines.

"Ron, what's going on?" Luna shouted suddenly from the shore.

Ron pointed to the water: "There's something in the water!"

"Something or Someone?"

"I don't know, you're the expert!" Ron hissed.

"Tell me in a few words, what happened."

"I was pelted with stones and the something or someone pinched my, uhh, bottom."

Luna clapped her hands together: "Oh, it could be a water demon, such as the Kappa."

"Sorry, if I have to dampen your enthusiasm, but water demon sound not good!"

"Don't worry, you can ward off a kappa."

"Alright, how?"

"One possibility is, to appease the Kappas through the offering of a cucumber."

"Okay, for lack of a cucumber, I hope, there is a other possibility?"

"The mythology says, who can outwit Kappas to come ashore and bowing according to the custom, they stripped of all powers."

"And according to the case, I am unable to outwit him?"

"Kappas live on human blood." - Ron widened in horror. – "They suck them via the anus, the blood and guts…."

"Stop! I think, I can imagine, what will happen." Ron screamed in a high voice and grumbled to himself: "This explains the pinch."

After a deep breath, he took a first tentative step towards of the shore. Thanks to Merlin and his body size, the water was only up to his chest: "Come on, water demon, what do you think, when you accompany me to the shore?" He walked slowly backwards, in order to offer the water demon no attack surface. Furthermore, his left hand was protectively over his bottom.

"I'll be right back!" Luna shouted and disappeared with a plong.

"Now remain only two of us." Another step towards the shore. "Believe me, I, uh, inside me is nothing is particularly."

**Plong.**

"Damn, Luna, where were you?"

"In the camp, to get the camera!"

Ron closed his eyes briefly: "A really fantastic -"

"Isen't it?! Oh, I wish Rolf would be here."

"So do I, so do I", Ron muttered into his beard, whereas Luna further reveled in enthusiasm: "For a Kappa is water the most precious, because he draws all of his magical powers from the water.."

Ron risked a another cautious look into the water and stopped short. He called over his shoulder: "Luna, do you know, how this thing looks like?"

"According to unconfirmed rumors, the Kappa resembles a frog or a monkey with webbed feet and fish scales."

"Then it is definitely not a Kappa. I can see here something like a mane." He peered once again into water: "Yeah, that is a mane. That's good, or?"

"Not necessarily. Kelpies, by the way also water demons, occur mostly in the form of slightly scruffy-looking horse with mane-like bins. They try to ingratiate themselves at humans."

"I have no problem with it, it is definitely bet…."

"Once the Kelpies have caused someone to sit as a rider on their back, they carry their victim immediately to the bottom of a lake and devour it there."

As quickly as he could, Ron rushed out of the lake. Not even two minuter later, he stood with forwardly bowed upper body, one arm propped up against a tree, and uttert breathing heavily: "I swear, never again, I go swimming in a lake."

"Master Redbeard!" – "Yeah?" He looked to the side, where stood out of nowhere one of the elves with his boxer shorts in the hand. Ron blushed to his hair tips and grabbed the shorts. He glanced at Luna, who examined – to his great relief – with her eyes the water, most likely in search of the water demons.

In all haste, he pulled on his boxer. He was about to button up his shirt, as Luna suddenly cooed a series of strange noises, which sounded very screechy and harsh. Ron covered his ears with his hands, until Luna's lips stopped moving: "Bloody hell, what was that?"

Luna gave him a dreamy smile: "It sounds beautiful, huh? Mermish is the language of the Merpeople."

"In the lake are Merpeople?"

"More specifically, Mermaids." Luna replied distracted, put down the camera and climbed into the lake fully clothed. Ron's mouth dropped open.

* * *

Peter Granger considered himself as 'unflappable'. For this reason, he looked at the uprooted wildflowers and asked himself merely, who had raged here. But when he opened the door to the kitchen, he was for the first time in a long time speechless by the sight, that greeted him there.

The two favorite women in his life sat side by side on the floor and giggling hysterically. On the table was a bottle of -, wait, he narrowed his eyes and grabbed the half-empty bottle – whiskey, moreover, a bottle from his best Scotch whiskey. He raised his eyebrows and looked down at the two.

His wife smiled and slurred: "Ohhh, hic, you're already, hic, there. Is, hic, it already so late?" She looked at her wristwatch, apparently in her drunken state not aware, that she held her glass in same hand: "Oops, my, hic, whiskey." She held up the empty glass: "Please be a sweetheart-"

Hermione snickered, whereupon her mother gave her a quizzical look: "Won's first, hic, girlfriend gave him..m, hic, a 'my sweetheart-necklace', hic, I think, it's still in a box…x in the attic, hic."

"Rea..lly?".

"Mmm, yeah!"

"Nice!" Both started laughing - once again.

With a sigh, Peter sat down on a chair: "This will be a long night."

* "Spring flowers"; goddess of the moon, the earth, the flowers of love, dances and games - twin sister of Xochipilli


	3. Chapter 3

David Whitaker was not naïve, he knew, to get to the top, he had ruthlessly, regardless of the consequences. He also needed the right environment and so he chose his acquaintances true to the motto 'it is not important, what can I do for you, but it is important, what you can do for me'.

Already as a student he began to stretch out his feelers for an equivalent partner, but none of his female student colleagues or other women satisfy his requirements.

Until one day, Hermione Granger was introduced to him. Part of the golden trio, best friend of Harry Potter, decorated with the Order of Merlin, First Class, ambitious, as he himself. In a word: perfect. Together, they were able to achieve great things. And to complete the picture, she was also a sight for sore eyes with her luscious ass.

There was only one problem, although, in his eyes, however, a minor problem: Ronald B. Weasley, admittedly, a successful Auror, but without ambitions. He was sure, there was only a matter of time, before Hermione saw it the same way.

Unfortunately, he suffered a few days ago in Stockholm – due to his stupid action – a severe setback. His next steps needed to be well-considered.

And so he found himself, in search of something useful, at Mrs. Graham's desk, who was in the morning meeting in the office of her supervisor. He glanced at Hermione's office door, it's now or never. While he rummaged through the received messages, he listened with one ear to Hermione's and Hilda's quiet murmur.

"Mmm, nothing important, inquiries from other departments, invitations to meetings, wait, that sounds interesting!" He scanned the letter and grinned devilishly. "Sorry, Mr. Scamander, but Madame Undersecretary has something else to do." He put the note into his pants pockets and restored with a short skillful swing from his wand the state of Hilda's desk.

And this, just in time. "Mr. Whitaker, what are you doing at my desk." Mrs. Graham's reedy voice came from the door.

"I'm waiting for an urgent message and thought, that maybe this is mistakenly landed in Hermione's in-box."

"This don't entitle you, to browse in the post from Madame Undersecretary."

Wow, she looked, as if she wanted to hex him. He took a step back from the desk and smiled flatteringly: "You have, of course, absolutely right, especially since there is – as always – a perfect order on your desk and you would have noticed instantly a stray bullet."

She grumbled angrily to herself and David thought, it was best to retreat. He slipped his hand in his pocket and felt satisfied that piece of paper. Elated, he disappeared into his office.

* * *

As usual, when Ron was nervous, he feels the urge to rub his neck. Instead, he forced himself to smile politely at the officer, who conscientiously compared the picture in the passport with the person standing in front of her. After the second scrutiny, he swallowed and cleared his throat: "No razor!"

The officer narrowed her eyes: " Pardon?"

He pointed to his beard and croaked:."Therefore the beard."

For some incomprehensible reason (and beyond his grasp), she nodded relieved and pushed his passport through the slot: "Welcome back, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you. It's nice to be back."

After he had survived the last hurdle (the luggage inspection), he entered the arrivals area, where Luna waited for him. She gave him a worried glance: "Were there any problems?"

"Nah, but I guess, she did not like my beard."

"Luna, Darling, here!", suddenly somebody shouted and both looked searchingly around. Grinning, Ron nudged Luna and pointed to a young man, who waved behind the barrier with both arms.

Luna's eyes lit up and she yelled back: "Rolf". Her fiance jumped over the barrier and rushed to Luna, who leaped into his arms. Ron felt himself placed in one of Jean's love tearjerker. Embarrassed, he looked seemingly interested in the many different perfumes in the shop window.

"Ron, you can turn around.", Rolf laughed, "For now, we are ready with our demonstrations of love."

"Phew, thank Merlin. The other passengers were already about, to pull out their cameras. " Ron smirked and greeted Rolf, who did not want to let go of his fiancée, with a firm handshake over the head of Luna.

"How did you know, that we get back today, sweetie?" Luna asked curiously, cuddled up in Rolf's arms.

Rolf glanced down at his girlfriend and smiled: "Of course, through the bush telegraph, my buttercup."

Puzzled, she furrowed her brow: "But I don't give up a bush telegraph."

With great difficulty, Ron bit back his laughter.

"Then somebody else have done it." He gave Luna a kiss on the head and Ron a wink.

As the three went to the exit, Rolf looked at him from the side: "Actually, I would have expected, that Hermione is also here."

"She probably cannot decipher a bush telegraph.", Ron quipped with a twinkle.

"That was not necessary, I send her a message by owl!"

Ron stopped thunderstruck: "Really?"

Luna's fiancé also stopped and nodded.

"Oh!" Ron looked down at his hands, to hide his disappointment.

Luna took his hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly: "Hey, you know Hermione, surely something came up and she could not come."

He muttered bitterly: "Right, I know my busy wife." Gently, he withdrew his hands from Luna's: "I think, here ends my short trip in the world of water demons, mermaidsfull and other creatures." He hugged Luna and whispered in her ear: "I'm sorry, if I was no great support…"

"You were a great travel companion and without you, the new tribe of mermaids would never have been discovered." Luna snickered.

He blushed and groaned: "Don't remind me." He broke away from the hug and looked asking at Rolf: "May I?" As Rolf nodded approvingly, Ron leaned forward and gave Luna a peck on the cheek.

Rolf's eyes shone with excitement: "Are you sure, you want to go already? The boxes with your found pieces arrived yesterday and we could unpack these together."

Ron smiled tiredly: "Honestly, I am looking forward to a long sleep in my soft bed." He gave Rolf a friendly slap on the shoulder and shouldered his backpack.

Luna slapped her palm to her forehead: "Your wand!" She rummaged through her bag and eventually pulled out an umbrella: "Here!"

Sheepish, Ron grabbed his as an umbrella disguised wand: "My remaining stuff I'll pick up in the next few days, okay?"

Luna smiled softly: "Until then, bye Ronald!"

He waved over his shoulder and left.

* * *

David winked at Mrs. Graham, who observed him with suspicious eyes, and knocked three times in rapid succession, as always, at the door to Hermione's office. Without permission to enter, he poked his head into the door gap and asked contritely: "Is a repentant sinner allowed to enter?"

With a sigh, Hermione leaned back in her chair: "Honestly, David, I don't know, if I should forget the, hmm, incident. Just.… " She flicked her fingers "'at the drop of a hat'

He shook his head: "You can really believe me, that is not my intention! I only beg you, to hear me out." He pointed at the chair in front of her desk: "May I?"

Hermione was silent for a moment and glanced at him searchingly, but to Dave's great relief, she finally nodded.

Thankfully, he sat down and looked at her seriously: "First of all, even if I know that my behavior was inexcusable, you have to believe me, that I'm very, very sorry."

"What's in merlin's name gotten into you?"

"I ask myself this question too."

"Am I to blame?"

He gave her a baffled look: "You?"

She blushed and looked embarrassed down at her hands: "Did I send you wrong signals?"

He bent forward: "Hermione, look at me." – She glanced up. – "You have to accuse yourself of nothing. I am here to blame!" He pursed his lips thoughtfully and then counted mischievous: "and of course the devil alcohol, the romantic city, the nice hotel and the successful event!"

"Of course!", Hermione smiled slightly.

Both looked at each other in silence.

David cleared his throat: "So, what now? Maybe I should ask, for a transfer to another department?"

"Nonsense!" She replied in a firm voice.

"What else do you suggest?"

She chewed on her lower lip: "I think, for now, we should deal with each other only on a professional level."

He nodded understandingly: "That would be the best!" He got up and pointed at her with files overloaded desk. "Looks like a long night working."

"I'm afraid, you're right! Today, I must be jinxed. First, one of my memos went missing on the way to the Department of Improper Use of Magic, meaning, my work from the last few days was all a waste of time. And to top it all, Mafalda Hopkirk forced a new project, the organization of our annual summer feast, on me." Shaking her head, she muttered darkly to herself: "Woe to him, who has nominated me for this bullshit." She grinned sheepishly: "Sorry, usually I leave the cursing to my husband."

He winked: "Don't worry, my lips are sealed. Alright, I'd better go then, and keep you no longer from the work, unless, you need my help?"

She shrugged her shoulders: "No, no. It's alright." And added sadly to herself: "Besides, no one waits for me."

As soon as he was back in his office, he opened his, secured with a spell from prying eyes, drawer and took out Hermione's missing memo and the message from Rolf Scamander. "Good thing, that Peter Carson from the Improper Use of Magic owed to me a favor." He laid the papers on his desk and let both with 'Evanesco' for ever and ever vanish into nothingness.

Pleased with himself, he leaned back in his office chair and folded his hands behind his head. If she knew, that he was the one, who gave Mafilda the crucial tip. On the other hand, if anyone can organize something in such a short time, it was actually Hermione. David glanced at the watch and chuckled. "What a pity, Ronald, that your so busy wife not even take the time, to welcome you at the airport – and not only that, you'll have to wait for her very long."

* * *

With a loud thud Ron's backpack ends up on the floor. "Home sweet home!", he muttered sarcastically, as he glanced around the room, "What did I expect? Perhaps a wife, who is waiting for me with open arms – keep on dreaming, Ron! Everything as always."

He went through the bedroom into the bathroom and waved in passing to Crookshanks. "And as always, the old fur lies on my side of the bed."

Sighing, he looked at himself in the mirror and whispered: "Welcome, darling, I've missed you!"

"Thank you. By the way, you should shave off the beard!", replied the mirror.

"Shut up! I have not talked to you.", grumbled Ron and undressed.

Freshly showered, he stood half an hour later in search for something edible in front of the opened refrigerator. He sniffed at the milk carton and grimaced: "And as always, she forgot to fill the fridge." He closed the door with a push from his foot and tossed the carton of sour milk in the trash.

With a bag of corn flakes, he made his way into the living room. There he grabbed his post, which lay in a basket on the Kommade – as always – and sat down on the sofa. "Let's see, what we have there.

Advertising for quills, advertising for cauldrons – to the pile for the trash. Oh, an advertising flyer for the new comet 3000!" He placed this flyer carefully on the 'important' pile, just as his sports magazine 'Quidditch Life' and an invitation to an autograph session in the orphanage.

After he stuffed a handful of cornflakes in his mouth, he took a thick envelope, which was labeled, additionally to his name, with the word 'personal'. Curious, he turned the letter, to read the sender. 'Hotel de tre troll, Stockholm'. Frowned, he stroked his beard: "Hmm, isn't Stockholm a city in Sweden?"

Impatiently, he tore open the envelope, removed the letter (thankfully written in English) and he read to himself:

"Dear Mr. Weasley, we are pleased, to inform you, that your missing cufflink was found by one of our hotel staff. In the hope, that your wife and you spent an enjoyable stay in our hotel, we remain…."

Confused, Ron reached into the envelope and pulled out a gold cufflink. He closed his eyes horrified and swallowed. The cufflink wore the monogram * DW *.

* * *

Yawning, Hermione closed the file and put it aside. "And now to this damned summer party." She rubbed her tired eyes and grabbed a piece of blank paper. Just as she was about to make a few notes, someone knocked on the door frame and called cheerfully: "Knock, knock!" She glared at Harry: "How can you so cheerful..", She looked down at her watch, "around this time?"

"You are right, actually you should be the one, who is in high spirits!" He winked cheekily.

She huffed: "Since I'm responsible for the organization of the summer party? Not bloody likely!"

"No, I meant the grand reunion with your adventurer! And honestly, I had not expected, to meet you here."

She looked at him bewildered. Shaking his head, Harry pulled out the rolled evening paper from his jacket pocket and threw it on her desk: "Flip to page 3." Without a word, Hermione did as she was told.

Eagerly, Harry watched her reaction to the article on Luna's expedition and return. Her eyes widened and she murmured: "He's back?" She glanced at him with a mixture of incredulity and sheer joy. He nodded with a grin: "He's back!"

She jumped up so vigorously, that her chair fell backwards: "And that I learn only now?"

"I don't…."

Baffled, Harry saw behind the hurrying Hermione. Then he smiled and with a flick of his wand, turned the chair to its place and switched off the light.

* * *

Ron sat stunned several minutes on the sofa, with one hand he cluchted the crumpled letter and with the other, to a fist clenched, hand, the corpus delicti. As he finally got up from the sofa, he stuffed the letter and the cufflink into his pocket. Then he went into the bedroom, to grab the rest of his stuff.

As a last, he took his chess game under his arm. Without looking back, he flung a handful floo powder into the fireplace and called the first name, that came to his mind.

* * *

The emerald green flames lit up the living room, when Hermione arrived in the fireplace of their flat. She knocked the ashes out of her clothes neglectful and called for her husband: "Love?" Shaking her head, she looked amused at the colorful mishmash of cornflakes advertising flyers and letters, which was spread all over the sofa, and whispered overjoyed: "He is really back!". She opened the bedroom door, but no traces of Ron, not even in the bathroom and in the kitchen. Her brow furrowed and she chewed on her lip. The chaos on the sofa and the wet towels on the bathroom floor showed clearly, that he was here. "But the question is, where are you now, Ron."

* * *

Harry yawned heartily and wanted after his night shift only one thing, namely, to fall into bed and sleep, sleep, sleep. But as usual his destiny, i.e. his wife, disagreed his wish. No sooner had he set his foot on the first stair step, Ginny rushed out of the kitchen and pulled him into the living room. Confused, he asked: "Ginny, what the hell?" – "Hermione is here, because Ron has disappeared, although he must have been there, you know, the wet towels, she is completely dissolved, understandably..." – Harry grabbed her shoulders: "Stop!" Surprisingly, his wife shut her mouth without backtalk. He embraced her and rubbed her back: "Where is Hermione now?" – "In our kitchen." - "Are you alright?" – She freed herself from his arms and growled full of suppressed anger: "In any case better than my stupid brother, after my Bat Bogey Hex." - Harry rubbed his face and sighed: "Come on, let's go to Hermione."

A few minutes later

"All right, before we upset the apple cart, I suggest, that first of all I look for him at his possible whereabouts." – Both women looked at him questioningly – "There would, for example, the joke shop, Shell Cottage, Seamus's Flat." He waved his arm. "The list is long."

Ginny snorted: "You really think, that his first way, barely returned, leads him to George or Seamus?"

Harry nodded: "I think so! Don't forget, he spent several hours alone at home, perhaps he feels bored."

Hermione jumped up and paced around the kitchen: "Simply fantastic, my husband prefers Fleur's presence, instead of me."

If the situation were not so serious, Harry would have laughed heartily. "Firstly, to my knowledge Fleur lives not alone in Shell Cottage."

"Harry's right, Hermione, Ron loves Bill and Fleur's children."

Hermione stopped her pacing and smiled fondly: "I know."

"Secondly, is not even sure if he actually stays there." He paused and gazed Hermione straight in the eyes: "And besides, you were not there."

"And where is the problem? He knows exactly where my office is."

"Assuming that he would really have appeared in your office, what would you have done?"

Ginny giggled: "I know, what I would have done. However, I can not imagine, that our, sorry, prim and proper Hermione greeted her husband with a lovely welcome-sha.." – "GINNY!" – Uh, cuddle, moreover, on her desk."

Said friend blushed to the roots of the hair.

Harry cleared his throat: "Yeah, I guess that was my cue, to make my way. The best is probably, Hermione, that you wait for me in your flat."

His wife nugged Hermione gently: "I bring just James quickly to Mum and then I will come as well, alright?"

Hermione nodded and disappeared.

As Harry wanted to kiss his wife goodbye, she said, what he thought: "Harry, if Ron is really by George or Seamus, why did he not send a message?"

That was the crux of the matter. He forced himself to smile: "Maybe, he was too drunk."

She glanced at him incredulously, but left it at that.

* * *

Just as Harry was about to knock on the door to Seamus Flat, appeared Ginny's, Patronus, a horse: "Harry, come immediately to Hermione's flat, and please, hurry up!"

In the flat already waiting for him his furious (and mad as hell) wife and his apparently devastated sister-in-law. He knelt next to Hermione, who sat in tears on the sofa, and looked questioningly at his wife.

"That bastard has left his wife! I swear, if mom does not kill him, then I will do it."

"Bullshite!" He grabbed Hermione's hands and squeezed them: "Ron would never leave you again, for that he loves you too much."

"H..he emptied his closet a..and took his chess game." Hermione sniffed. "Let's face it, h..he left meee!" Sobbing, she fell into Harry's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

After 13 years of friendship, Harry swore blind, that he knew all Ron's quirks and idiosyncrasies. For example:

\- Ron's stomach was like a Swiss clockwork

\- he's just coasting along in his paperwork

\- never voluntarily

\- and always at the last minute.

Therefore, Harry was quite astonished, when he found Ron behind a stack of files, moreover, during his lunch time, thumbing through any documents.

Shaking his head, he took one look at his wristwatch, then knocked on the wall of the cubicle and cried cheerfully: "Come on, mate, drop everything, today is pancake day in the cafeteria."

"No time….", grumbled Ron, without looking up, "I'm busy."

"Who are you and what have you done with my friend?", Harry quipped, but even that coaxed no response from his friend. He glanced longingly towards the elevator and for one or two minutes, he struggled with himself, whether he should indulge his beloved pancakes, or to keep his grumpy friend company - and besides with an empty stomach.

With a deep sigh, he entered the office cubicle (_the things we do for our friends)_, pulled out his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and levitates the documents of the visitor's chair to an empty space next to the desk. Without being asked, he plopped down on the now unoccupied chair and picked up one of the files from the stack: "Investigation files?" He read the name of the Death Eater and frowned: "I thought, that case is closed?" – His friend nodded and waved absently: "It is!" – Harry made a sweeping gesture: "Those are all closed cases?"

"Yup!" Ron glanced up and gave him a tired and also knowing smile: "And before you ask…" – Harry shut his mouth. – "I deal with these only for research purposes."

"Fuck, our boss saddled you for this?" Harry asked incredulously, and bit back the words: '_How, the hell, you've earned this detention'._

His friend circled his shoulder, until a loud crack was heard: "Nah, I do this at my own request."

"Really?" Stunned, Harry stared at him: "But why should you do something like that?".

"I told you already, for research." Ron replied and turned back to his file.

"Mystery-monger!", Harry growled and placed the file back onto the stack. Suddenly his eye fell upon an upturned picture frame. He leaned forward and lifted the photography up. Shaking his head, he wiped the glass with his shirt sleeves, before he set the photo frame in its original place.

Looking up, he met the Ron's narrowed eyes and pointed to the frame: "Must have fallen over!"

Wordlessly, Ron grabbed the picture of his wife and banished it in his desk drawer.

Inwardly sighing, Harry tipped his chair back on two legs and folded his hands behind his head. Thoughtfully, he studied his friend from his mussed hair, scruffy beard, crumpled shirt (_Merlin – the shirt lacked two buttons! Honestly mate, you are one of the most capable aurors, but unable, to use household spells?!)_ – up to the shiny object on the ring finger of the right hand. He chuckled (_down but not out, after all, the prat still wears his wedding ring – and the photo frame does not end up in the trash)._

The redhead shot him a suspicious look: "What?"

Harry could not resist: "You look like shit!"

Ron rubbed his face, whereby his beard created a scraping noise: "Mate, I tell you, it's no fun, to spend the nights in the flat of a bachelor. Card-playing, and party until late in the night is not my cup of tea.." He shut the file cover forcefully.

Harry raised an eyebrow and Ron smiled wryly: "Not since my Auror-Training." He yawned widely and added: "And the worst of all is Seamus couch. I swear that thing has no springs.". For a moment he looked thoughtfully into the distance, until he opened the next file.

"You know, there's a simple solution to your problem."

Ron lifted his head: "Huh?"

Harry leaned forward and the chair slammed back to the floor: "Go home, talk to your wife and work it out. " - Ron's face closed: "I cannot - at least not yet!" – "Then talk to me! " – His brother-in-law hesitated. – "Come on! You told me once, that's not healthy, to bottle up problems."

With a long-suffering sigh, his friend leaned back in his chair and raised his arms in a gesture of surrender: "All right, I'll talk to you, but not here…" he grimaced "where the walls have ears."

"Tonight at The Burrow?"

Ron gave him "You-think-I'm-tired-of-life"-look and grumbled: "I prefer to stay away, until the dust has calmed."

"Tell me just when and where and I'll be there." replied Harry like a shot.

Ron looked thoughtfully into space: "Mmm, I spend the weekend in Hogsmeade, so we can meet…" – "Do not say in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop", Harry winked, "you know, my wife is very jealous and skillfully with her wand." – "Ha, ha, very funny, Potter! I thought more of a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."

"Fine with me! Shall we say tomorrow around 21.00 o'clock?"

Ron nodded and repeated: "21.00 o'clock sounds good."

Harry stood up and glanced at his mate meaningful: "And Ron.."

Questioningly, Ron lifted his eyebrow: "What now?"

"Hopefully, freshly shaved."

Ron batted his eyes and grinned mischievously: "Because of me, you don't need to bother, love."

"I meant you, you moron!"

"Why should I get rid of my beard?"

"Because with this scrub you look… like Hagrid!"

The redhead stroked his beard: "So what? Because of his beard, Madame Maxime fell in love with him." He bent forward and whispered conspiratorially: "You know, mate, it is a fact, that women love bearded men. I swear, Brunhilda winked at me."

"Canteen-Brunhilda, the iron maiden?" – Ron grinned and nodded. – "The one, with the mustache? Well then, have fun with her. It's your life." Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Damn right!"

"Yeah, Potter, leave the poor man alone!" cried a voice from outside. Harry made a rude gesture towards the adjacent cubicle, while Ron smirked: "See, even Patterson is on my side."

"I don't care, what Patterson's thinks, but have you thought of your mother? I bet, she will not be thrilled." Harry dared to doubt.

Which was probably the wrong thing to say, the playfulness faded from Ron's eyes.

"Once for all, Harry, the beard stays!", he said through gritted teeth and slammed his fist on the table.

Harry turned around, to leave the cubicle without a word.

"Wait, Harry." Harry stopped and looked over his shoulder at Ron.

Sheepishly, his friend rubbed his neck: "Sorry about my, uh, outburst. I'm currently a little tense."

Harry grinned: "You think?"

"Git!

"Dunderhead!"

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don't tell mum and Ginny of my overnight stay in Hogsmeade, a night without Howler would be heavenly."

Harry saluted: "Your wish is my command!"

* * *

"So, this is your chance to confront him!" Harry finished satisfied. Disappointingly, showed his friend no reaction, on the contrary, she continued with her work, as if he had said nothing.

Harry snapped his fingers: "Earth to Hermione!" – Hermione glanced up from her papers and looked pointedly at his fingers. – Embarrassed, he dropped his hand: "Sorry!"

Sighing, she laid her papers aside and folded her hands: "Harry, why are you here?"

He tugged at his earlobe: "Uh, to tell you that your husband.."

"Spent his weekend in the Three Broomsticks." She completed emotionless. "I heard you the first time – you know, I'm not deaf."

"No, but I would have expected a different reaction, not…."

"So indifferent?" She offered in a tired voice.

He looked her straight in the eye: "Just coldly."

Her eyes darkened: "Listen, Harry, I am really grateful for your efforts, but on my account Ronald Weasley can stay, where the pepper grows. That bastard…." – Harry looked at her stunned, **that** word out of **her** mouth. – "left me, and not just once, no,…" She held two fingers up.

Uncomfortably, he shifted on the chair back and forth: "Twice, I know, but…" An arching of her eyebrow, caused Harry to quickly silence himself.

"Exactly, twice, which is one time too many, especially as he promised to never do it again." Hermione's eyes sparkled with suppressed rage, "And this time he did not carry a locket."

"Maybe, if you talk to him..."

"For the last time, I'm not interested in a meeting with him."

"Is that your last word?"

Hermione takes a deep breath and closed her eyes: "Harry James Potter.."

Harry lifted his hands in defense: "Already understood."

Hermione drummed her fingers impatiently on the table.

"And I'm already gone, bye!" He jumped up from his chair and rushed out of the office.

* * *

Ron nodded to Madam Rosmerta, who raised her hand in greeting, and let his searching glance glide around the room. As usual, at this time, the inn was crowded. Just as he was about to turn to the bar, his eyes met with the brown eyes of his wife.

Satisfied Hermione watched how her husband's eyes widened shocked. Her hand twitched and she clutched with both hands her glass butter beer, to resist the temptation, to hex him to Timbuktu.

After Ron was over the initial shock, he counted silently to 10, to keep his fury at bay. "Potter, you'll pay for this!", he muttered under his breath and walked over to his wife.

"I suppose, Harry does not come!" He said through gritted teeth.

"Well spotted, Sherlock." She mocked and looked at him expectantly.

Although Ron did not know, who this Sherlock was, he rather bite his tongue off, then express his ignorance.

"And, aren't you going to sit down?" She nodded her head towards the empty chair.

His jaw flexed, as he stared down at her.

She raised her eyebrow and asked smugly: "Afraid, that I make you a scene?"

He stuffed his hands in his trouser pocket and gripped with his right hand the object, that has brought his world crashing down: "I think, it would be in YOUR interest, if we go somewhere else, Mrs. Undersecretary."

She narrowed her eyes and hissed: "I will not go in the Seamus den of iniquity."

"Since the so-called den of iniquity is also not my 1st choice, I suggest my room here at the Three Broomsticks." - Hermione looked uncertainly and Ron cannot resist a spitefully "Afraid?".

Without further hesitation, she rose from her chair: "Which room?"

* * *

Hermione sat down on the window ledge and glanced around. Her husbands dearly beloved broom lay on the bed, in contrast to the travel bag, which had obviously been thrown carelessly on the floor. On the table stood used dishes and a pitcher. It was all so typical Ron, tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed her lips tightly together. No crying.

Ron, who stood in the middle of the room, cleared his throat and pointed to the pitcher: "Would you like another glass of butterbeer?"

She turned her head and looked down the moon illuminated Hogsmeade. Due to the warm late-summer night and day of the week, several revelers bustled through the narrow alleys.

Ron's whispered "This probably means no!" was barely audible.

She lifted her eyes and watched him through the reflection in the glass. He ran his hand through his much too long hair and their eyes met in the glass.

"Do you have nothing to say?", Under other circumstances she would have been shocked by her cold, emotionless voice, however, in the current situation. she felt only pride and satisfaction.

Ron's face darkened and he snarled: "Should I not ask this?"

She turned around to face him and narrowed her eyes: "Excuse me?"

"You heard…"

"I heard you, Weasley..." She interrupted him angry and rose to her feet, "but I don't understand what you're saying!". She approached him slowly, until she stood an arms length away from him. He stared down at her (d_amn him!)_. To punctuate her words, Hermione poked him with her index finger in his strong chest: "You" – poke – "left" – poke – "me" – poke – "Mister" – poke – "not" – poke – "I" – poke – "you!"

Ron caught and enclosed her finger with his hand: "Stop that!"

Enraged, Hermione tried to free her finger from his firm grip – unfortunately without success: "If you do not immediately let go of my finger, then…", she warned him and glanced up at him.

He raised his eyebrow and asked, amused: "Then what? You attack me with a flock of canaries?"

She smirked sweetly: "No, then I do that." And kicked him with full force against his shin.

Cursing, he opened his hand and let go of her finger.

"Not her punch bag, violent..", were just some of the words, which could Hermione pick out from his rant.

"It's all your own fault, I warned you!" _And be glad, that my knee ended not in your private parts_, she added in thought.

Moaning, he stooped and rubbed his leg.

"Don't make such a fuss, that was not even a proper kick!"

Her husband pulled up his trouser leg, so that a red stain was visible, and shot her a venomous look.

She rolled her eyes: "Don't be a baby, it's just a bruise!" She hated it, when he got injured and bruised on his missions – and now she did it to him, and the worst of it, it felt good, in fact very good.

Shaking his head, Ron stood up and dropped his trouser leg. Mumbled to himself, he gazed up at the ceiling, before facing her again. "Listen, Hermione, let's act like grown ups and not like, uh, immature teenagers. Do you think, we can do that?"

Thoughtfully, she chewed on her lower lip, a habit of early childhood. Suddenly she noticed, how Ron's eyes lingered on her lips. Instead of being flattered, this caused a surge of emotions: outrage (the nerve of that guy) and fury (this is hardly appropriate in this situation). And maybe a little triumph.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and clicked her tongue as a sign of disapproval. Caught red-handed, her husband glanced hastily aside.

10 points for Hermione, 0 for Ronald, for a moment she enjoyed her small victory, but then abruptly her triumph burst like a soap bubble. Damn, he's right, we behave like teenagers. She sighed and muttered: "Okay, let's talk like adults, calm and reasonable!"

He stared at her with a mixture of relief and astonishment (_because she agreed with him?)_, and mumbled: "That sounds good, but without outbreaks of violence."

She decided to ignore this last remark and asked stiffly: "Is it okay, if I sat down?"

"Be my guest."

Seemingly relaxed, he leaned against the wall, his muscular arms crossed over his chest, while Hermione sat down on the chair at the table.

For a while it was, except for Hermione's fingers tapping on the table, quiet in the room, until both began to speak at the same time.

"Look, Hermione.." – "Why did…" Both stopped and waited for a moment, before they dared a new attempt. "I want.." – "I don't.." Hermione rubbed her forehead in frustration. Although her husband looked irritated, he stayed calm and nodded to her: "Go ahead!"

"Why did you tell me nothing of the incident with this young Death Eater?"

Ron opened his mouth, but apparently he could not find the right words, and so he closed his mouth and simply shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, does not matter.

"And why my mother knew about this? Can you imagine, how I felt, when she told me about your sleep disorders? Apparently it does not count, that I'm your wife – a wife, who expects, that her husband told her himself from his problems, and not experience it through third parties."

Astonishingly, her husband listened her ranting in silence, of course with the result, that she slowly but surely lost her temper: "Was this incident the reason, why you played Tarzan and Jane with Luna in the jungle?". She pushed the warning voice of her mother out of her mind and attacked him again: "I mean, this behavior from you is very familiar to me." – Yes! Finally, a reaction, the vein on his forehead swelled noticeably (_Good!_!_)._

Suddenly flashed another terrible thought in her mind: "You told her, right." His stony silence only confirmed her suspicion. She smacked her forehead: "Now everything fell into place. Luna, our kind hearted friend, felt sorry for you. This is why she invited you as a travel companion on this…" To emphasize her next words, she made an air quote: "adventurous trip." Now blind with fury, she screwed her lips mockingly, it was time for the ultimate low blow: "I must say, her courage deserves my respect. Scientifically speaking, you're finally a blank slate and not the sharpest tool in the shed."

His body language, from his flushed face (at least the part, which was not covered by his beard), lowered eyebrows to his flared nostrils, speaks volumes: That hit home. "

And calm and reasonable flew out the window.

"Are you finished?", he growled in a deep voice.

"Don't worry, I have just one question for you. When did you get the feeling, that I constrict your freedom, before or during your trip?"

"That's bullshit", Ron hissed.

"Oh, yeah? Then why did you leave me?"

He glared at her.

"I thought so." She shook her head in disbelief: "And I, stupid cow, racked my brain with the question, what I could have said or done. "

He pushed himself away from the door: "You want a reason? Here is why!" He fumbled in his pants pocket, pulled something out and shouted: "Catch!" Surprisingly, she caught it with one hand. She turned her gaze from Ron to the object in her hand: "A cufflink?"

"Exactly a cufflink, or more accurately, my cufflink."

If she knew one thing, then that: "You wear no cufflinks." She glanced up.

Her husband snorted: "Certainly not with this Monogram. For aught I know, is my name still Ron and not Don!"

"Monogram?" She turned the cufflink and indeed, the front was embellished with a squiggle 'DW'.

She wrinkled her forehead confused and mused to herself: "DW?"

Ron looked her straight in the eye and repeated slowly: "Exactly, D..", he paused, "W!"

She laid the cufflink on the table and waved: "I don't understand, what this.."

He raised his hand and interrupted her question: "Now we come to the interesting part our story. Thanks to the friendly Swedish hotel staff, I received a package with this cufflink. Apparently they found it, after your departure in your room in Stockholm. By the way, I got the package on my first day in our cozy home after my..", he grinned maliciously and also used the air quote, "adventurous trip with Luna."

Stockholm?! Hermione felt, as if someone pulled the rug out from under her feet. She fought with the lump in her throat and repeated hoarsely: "Stockholm?"

"Funny, do not you think?". He laughed without humor. "I have never been in Stockholm, unlike you and this mysterious DW, whereby both of us know, who is behind these initials, namely..", he paused for a moment and Hermione closed her eyes, to avoid seeing his face, when he dropped the bomb, "David Whitaker!" _David Whitaker. _

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, as the blood rushed in her ears, while her mind raced with possible attempted explanation.

"Embarrassing, isn't it?!" Her husband snorted derisively: "The brightest witch of her age, was so stupid..", hee slapped his palm to his forehead, "so stupid, to check into hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

Tears pricked in Hermione's eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself. He was right, how could she be so stupid: "I know, the facts speak a different image, but…"

He interrupted her: "Actually, I agree with you."

Hermione stared at him and stammered: "W..what?"

"The facts speak for themselves. You were with another man in a hotel room, who pretended to be your husband."

"Let me explain." She begged him shakily.

"I think, it's better, if you leave now. " He pointed to the table. "And don't forget the corpus delicti. David will be grateful, when he gets back his missing cufflink."

"I don't go, before you have listened to me." She wiped with the back of the hand the tears from her eyes: "There was and is nothing between me and David."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, are you really expecting, that I believe you?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" She looked at him, strong and unblinking – although with tearful eyes.

He rubbed his eyes and muttered: "Once is always a first time!". – Hermione held her breath in anticipation of his decision. – "But go ahead, I'm curious, how you talk you out of this thing."

With trembling hands, Hermione twisted her wedding ring around her finger, while her eyes followed her pacing husband.

She cleared her throat and Ron stopped, to face her: "What?"

"Could you please sit down?" she asked him hoarsely.

When her husband remained standing stubborn, she added softly: "Please."

He sighed and lowered himself on the edge of the bed.

Timid, she scooted her chair closer to the bed. Besides, a raised eyebrow, he showed no reaction to this action.

_Here goes, Hermione_. She shut her eyes for a brief moment and croaked: "It's.." She cleared her throat again and grimaced: "Sorry, lump in my throat." – Sighing, he asked: "Would you like a glass of water?" – She shook her head and began again: "It is true, David Whitaker was in my hotel room."

Before Ron could react, she crouched down beside him. "He stood suddenly with a bottle of champagne in front of my hotel door." Gently, she placed her trembling hands on his knees and looked at him intensely. "I swear, I did not even know, that he was also in Stockholm. And I hear it today for the first time, that he has pretended to be my husband."

After a long-suffering sigh, she continued: "He wanted to congratulate me for my speech and celebrate a little, and although I was tired, I did not want to appear rude and let him in." She waited a few seconds, as Ron did not say anything, she carries on: "To rid of him, I took a sip of the champagne, but instead of going, he insisted on a toast and to clink glasses. After the third or fourth toast the bottle was finally empty, and I guided him to the door…. ", she bit her lip, "where he kissed me."

Ron's eyes burning with a mix of disappointment, hurt and pain.

She added quickly: "And I pushed him away from me and I swear, nothing else happened."

He exhaled audibly a long deep breath: "Forgive my simple-mindedness, but in which world is snogging between a married woman and her work colleague nothing – determined not in the wizarding world."

"It has been just a kiss!"

"JUST a kiss?" He cried out.

"YES, only a kiss, initiated by him!" She yelled back.

Breathing heavily, he was silent for a moment, before he continued with a surprisingly calm voice: "Okay, let's assume, it was just a kiss – "Nothing else!", she assured him hastily – He narrowed his eyes: "The crucial question is, however, how long."

She gave him a confused look.

"Well, did you push him away immediately or…?"

"I… I was frozen" she stuttered.

"Come one, Hermione, tell me, how long it took…"

She glanced to the side and whispered in a low voice: "Not immediately".

Ron shoved Hermione's hands from his knees and jumped up from the bed. His voice was cold, when he said: "Like I said, the facts speak for themselves!"

Hermione rose from her kneeling position and tried to grab his hands, but he withdrew these from her: "Please, Ron, hear me out."

He clenched his teeth and continued to look straight ahead: "I've heard enough, don't you think!"

She stamped her foot, while she impatiently wiped another tear from her face: "You're as stubborn as a mule."

His reply came promptly: "Well, then it's good, that the mule is not longer your burden!"

She froze: "What do you mean?"

He shrugged his shoulders: "I dunno. Maybe we should…"

Her legs felt like jelly and she slumped back on the bed: "Get divorced?"

He rubbed his forehead in a tired motion and murmured: "Do you have a better suggestion?"

Suddenly it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Hermione looked shocked at her husband: "Only because of this, you want to end our marriage?"

"That was just the drop in the ocean, we had a bunch of problems before your…", he paused, "tête-à-tête in Stockholm."

She clenched her fists: "You know, what I think, you're looking for a reason, to break out of our marriage."

He gave her an icy glare: "Excuse me! You cheated…."

Hermione interrupted him furiously: "I don't cheat on you. I feel nothing for David, I love only you!" And added through gritted teeth: "But I'm starting to wonder, if you still love me?"

"Don't be ridiculous" He pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled: "It would be much easier, if it were not so."

She covered her mouth, to stifle a sob of relief, unfortunately without success.

"You can save your crocodile tears!" he grumbled harshly and glanced away, "The milk milk has been spilled!"

But Hermione could not stop crying, partly out of anger about herself, but for the most part, for the possibility, that he loved her in spite of everything.

Ron blew out a cheek and stared at her: "Shit!" Hesitantly, he joined her on the bed and patted her shoulder soothingly: "Shhh, Shhh, don't cry."

"I – hic –I d – hic – don't – hic – cry!" she hiccupped and sniffled simultaneously.

Sighing, he conjured with his wand a handkerchief, with which he brushed away her tears. After that, he held the cloth to her nose and demanded: "Blow!" Without hesitation, she blew into it. Finally, he wiped her nose with the now-damp handkerchief, with the result, that her already scratchy-sounding voice was muffled: "I…th…..ue…"

"Huh?" He crumpled the handkerchief, threw it towards the trash cans and faced her with a frown.

She blinked rapidly, to clear her blurred vision, and drew a deep, shuddering breath: "It's really true that you love me, despite everything?"

His body stiffened and she could literally feel, how he withdrew from her: "And if, that would change nothing." When he tried to get up from the edge of the bed, Hermione held him by the sleeve: "Oh yes, that changes everything. Because if you still love me," She lifted her chin: "I will fight for our marriage." Her husband looked down at her hand, which was clutching his arm. "Hopefully, with you by my side!", she added with a soft and pleading voice.

* * *

As expected, one step out of the fireplace sufficed, to be under the influence of his mother, who was really piss.., um, disgruntled.

With hands on her hips, she gave him the once-over: "Well, well, the prodigal son gives us the honor of his presence!"

Inwardly sighing, the so-called prodigal son wiped some residual ash from his shoulders and greeted her in a calm tone: "I wish you also a good day, Mum, nice weather today, don't you think."

Her eyes flashed: "Roland Bilius Weasley, I'm not interested in a pleasant chat with you."

_(That would also be something completely new!)._ He pushed the bitter thoughts aside and asked ostensibly cheerfully: "Before or after dinner?"

His mother looked at him confused: "What?"

"You know…" He lowered his voice "the mother-son-talk. I would prefer after eating…", he winked and patted his belly, "you know, an army marches on its stomach."

"There is no reason to be so cheeky, young man. I have just received an owl from your wife." She wiped with the corner of her apron a tear from her eye, before she sniffling continued: "The poor girl is not coming, again."

He feigned surprise: "She don't?"

"And this time, with the excuse, that she drowns in work."

"Perhaps she really…" – "Nonsense!", Molly waved off his objection, "this is just a flimsy excuse. Obviously she doesn't want to face you – which is understandable under the circumstances."

_A_ll the guilt-ridden son, he lowered his head and braced himself for his mother's inevitable tirade, which followed immediately: "What is wrong with you!"

Obviously, this was a purely hypothetical question and it followed an enumeration of all his faults:

"Look at you, your hair screaming for a haircut and not to mention of your beard, did you not have a mirror?"

The scolding seemed endless and so did Ron, what he always did in such a situation, he let his mother nag, while he thought about other things, such as the Canon team's formation.

"Who take unpaid leave to go on a journey with an unmarried"

'A_s beater Jimmy Peakes would be my first choice._.'

"Shameful…"

'_we simply lack a player like…' _

"Where all can see it"

'_Galvin Gudgeon or Harry!" _He chuckled, which was apparently a huge mistake.

Promptly, his mother gave him a slap on the arm and yelled: "Do you think, that is funny?"

Because of his experience, he thought, it was better to be silent.

She narrowed her eyes and asked in a dangerously low voice: "Have you been listening to me at all?"

Clearing his throat, he nodded affirmatively: "Course!" _(Shit, shit'_).

"Don't dare, to lie to your mother!"

From the next room heard Ron a fit of laughter, it goes without saying, his brother George found the tongue-lashing clearly entertaining.

A swear word on the tip of his tongue, he reached for his wand. But before he could pronounce the spell, his mother uttered an exasperated "Harrumph".

"Only a tiny anti-eavesdropper-spell!?" He looked at her pleadingly.

His mother sighed.

"Oh, mum, come on.", He whined. "the walls have quite literally ears. I promise, after that, you have my full attention." – His mother pursed her lips and murmured: "Don't promise anything, that you cannot keep." – "And we can speak absolutely undisturbed." Thank Merlin, his mother nodded her consent.

Once the room was protected from unbidden eavesdroppers, in particular from George, Ron twirled his wand through the air, caught it skillfully and blew away the nonexistent smoke - observed by his confused mother. He rubbed his neck sheepishly: "A Muggle thing I've seen in a movie.

"Ronald Weasley, if you mean, you can distract me with your childish behavior, you're badly mistaken." She breathed heavily and hissed: "Are you, at all, aware, how many wizards and witches subscribed the magazine?"

"Wait, Mum, first of all, from which magazine we're talking about?"

She gave him another slap on the arm and scolded: "Definitely not about your precious magazin 'Seeker Weekly'!"

He rolled his eyes: "But…?"

"Witch Weekly!"

_Bloody hell, Witch Weekly? _

"Well, Ronald!" Tap.

He winced by a well-known sound.

"Do you have anything to say?" Tap.

_I hate it, when she does that. _

Tap.

_I bet, she does this on purpose, this pesky foot tapping._

Tap.

He pondered frantically, what she wanted from him. An admission of guilt? But for what?

Tap.

_She knew herself, that the editors of this tabloid only publish gossip and other crap. Or?_

Tap

_Face it, Ron, you have given up a long time ago, to understand your mother and her thoughts_.

Tap.

Suddenly, he remembered the life motto of his late brother Fred: if you go down already, then go down swinging. And an idea struck him.

Tap.

"How many witches read this gossip, um, popular magazine? Let me think, mmh." He scratched his head with his wand and began slowly zu count: "There would be Ginny, Fleur, Angie…" – He smiled at his mother: "I guess, round about two dozen." – Speechless, his mother stared at him. – He wiggled his hand: "Plus/minus two!"

"The whole wizarding world is laughing about our family and you, you….", she stuttered in outrage.

He laughed and shook his head: "Come on, Mum, the whole wizarding world? That's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"Roland Bilius, although you may be an adult, you're not too old, to be punished." Before he knew, what was happening, his mother held her wand threateningly in her hand.

In his haste, to escape the curse of his mother, Ron jumped backwards and nearly tripped over the table – and dropped with this clumsy retreat maneuver his wand.

With one blow, Ron turned serious, and he raised both hands in defense: "Woa, mum, calm down!" –

Breathing heavily, she lowered her wand a little. – "Why do you think, everyone is laughing about us?"

"How can you ask?" Her voice trembled with suppressed rage. "They saw the scandalous nude photo of you!"

"What!", Ron cried in an embarrassing high-pitched voice and glanced around the room, "Where is that rag!"

His mother flicked her wand and within a very short time floated the said magazine into the room. Ron snatched the gossip rag and hastily flipped the pages: "Harry Potter father of three illegitimate children, blah blah blah, I see here…" Bloody hell, in the middle of the magazine, a double-sided tear sheet photo of him. He felt himself blush.

"Well?"

Ron, flushed to the roots, glanced up and grinned sheepishly: "Uh, this is indeed a little embarrassing."

"A little embarrassing?!", repeated his mother in disbelief.

He turned the magazine and examined his photo: "It could have been worse, look, you cannot see my…" – "Ronald!" – "private body parts."

"That's all, what you have to say?"

Ron, still engrossed in the image, shook his head.

"Where did they get the picture?", she demanded to know.

Ron dropped the magazine and frowned in thought "I don't know. Definitely not from Luna!"

Molly gasped and put a hand on her heart : "Luna took photos, while you were bathing, and at that, naked!"

He closed the magazine and stuffed it in his back pocket: "Usually you bathe naked." As his mother angrily lifted her wand, he hurried to say: "But don't worry, I was alone – well not quite alone – in the lake. Luna, mind you, a **fully dressed** Luna just wanted a shot of the mermaid."

"A mermaid? I did not see any mermaid in the photo."

"No wonder, this creature is very shy."

"Don't try to make fun of your old mother!"

He sighed: "There was a mermaid and, you can believe me, Luna was more keen at this creature, as an my…."

"Ronald!" He raised his hand in apology.

"So you have no affair with Luna!"

Ron's jaw dropped: "Excuse me?"

"You cannot blame me for my suspicions." She defended herself.

Stunned, he looked at her: "Mum, what makes you think, no, scratch that." He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to relax, unfortunately without success.: "Apparently, you think, I'm able to do such a thing, however, Luna loves her fiance and would never ever cheat on him."

"Then why did you leave your wife?", his mother demanded.

"That's none of your damn business!", he hissed angrily.

The consequence of his big mouth, he received, of course, immediately. His mother flicked her wand in his direction and shouted: "Lev-ee-COR-pus!"

While dangling upside down by his ankles, he fumbled cursing for his wand. Crap, which was somewhere on the living room floor. _An amazing auror, you're_. With a sigh, he folded his arms over his chest, now he had to rely on the mercy of his mother. Maybe he should flatter her a little….

"That's no way to speak to your mother, young man. I thought, we had raised you better!"

Or rather not.

Before his mother could start with a new tirade, she was stopped by a loud throat clearing. Ron peered toward the door, which was a bit difficult from his current location.

"Mum?" Thank Merlin, he sighed in relief, only Bill.

His mother turned around, to face Ron's brother.

"Fleur needs your help in the kitchen, I think, there is a problem with the stove." When Bill was astonished at Ron's situation, so he was hiding it well.

His mother's voice lost the harsh undertone and she muttered softly: "Bill, be a sweetheart, and get your father…."

"I think, the roast lamb is a little burned." Bill added casually. Oddly enough, Ron could not smell anything, as he sniffed.

His mother's eyes widened panic-stricken. "I'm not finished with you, Mister, so doesn't budge, till I get back!" She said, or rather, she threatened him, and disappeared through the door.

* * *

Instead of leaving the room with his mum, Bill sat down on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "Let me guess, swear words.", he noted with a smirk.

Ron's sigh alone confirmed Bill's suspicion, however, his misdemeanor apparently are not only limited to the violation against the most sacred of all the Burrow-Rules, because he admitted: "Among other things." Bill came several possible misdeeds in mind.

The 'wrongdoer' turned his – due to his unfavorable posture – bright red head around, undoubtedly, on the lookout for his wand. Observed from its big brother, who was curious to see, how Ron would get out of his awkward position. After all, he did not often have the opportunity, to experience an Auror in action.

Ron's facial expression showed signs of deep concentration, his eyes were closed and his tongue…. Bill could not suppress a snicker.

Immediately, his brother jerking his eyes open and asked with a slight annoyed undertone: "What?"

"It's just, the thing with the tongue…" – Ron frowned. – "Victoire does that too, when she focuses on something."

"What do you mean?"

"She slides, like you, her tongue between the lips." Demonstratively, Bill slid his tongue between his lips.

"I don't do such a thing!" Ron vigorously disagreed. Bill was sure, at least now, he would blush (if the color of his face would not already resemble an over-ripe tomatoes) - from anger or embarrassment, or probably from both.

Bill shrugged his shoulders and smiled: "It's kind of cute"

"I'm not cute.", Ron muttered under his breath and closed his eyes again. He inhaled deeply through his nose, held his breath for a moment, before he exhaled through the mouth. Just when Bill wondered, if it was a special breathing technique, the tongue of his brother slid again between his lips.

As Bill slightly coughed, Ron grumbled: "Shut up, Bill."

Then everything happened very quickly, Ron's wand flew into his outstretched hand and an eye blink later, he stood upright again – figuratively speaking. Right now, his upper body was bent slightly forward and his arms resting on the thighs. Understandable, after hanging upside down.

"Did you learn this breathing technique during your Auror training." Bill asked curiously.

Ron lifted his eyes and grinned: "Nope. That was just for show."

Bill admitted: "Yon doesn't need show elements, to impress me. I gotta say, your non-veral and wandless spells are worth seeing."

Ron straightened up and waved off the praise: "Nay, that was nothing. In the recent years Harry mastered this skill, like no other. I'm just his apt pupil."

"Yet! Don't forget, unlike Harry, you joined the aurors-corps not immediately. He's got a pretty good head start, but he should already prepare himself, for a rough ride to the very top." He winked: "I think, I just witnessed a Head in the making."

"Be careful what you say, Harry is my best friend!" glared Ron, but the edge of his mouth tilted upwards.

"And like a brother to me, but that does not stop me, to put my galleons on my baby brother."

Ron snorted: "Since you're the only one."

"Nah, Fleur is a firm believer, that you will achieve something great."

"Something great, huh" Ron repeated and rubbed his neck sheepishly – Bill nodded: "You know, that my wife is your biggest fan." – "And I hers" Ron replied softly.

And indeed, since the fateful days of the war, Ron feels close to Fleur and he also held a special place in her heart. It warmed Bill's heart, that she, whenever his brother came to visit, fusses over him as – as if he was her baby brother. She teased him, laughed with him, and if necessary, she scolded him, gently but firmly.

Her greeting always contained an embrace (and in case of an absent Hermione, a kiss on each cheek).

And the kids loved their uncle Ron also beyond all measure. For their and Fleur's sake, Ron learned even a few french words (his accent was terrible, but it's the thought, that counts). Unfortunately, to Fleur's dismay, he doesn't acquire a taste for the Cuisine française.

It also means a lot to Bill, when Fleur reminded her brother-in-law in all regularity, that their door is always open to him.

Lost in thought, Ron stared at the mantelpiece with the lots and lots of photo frames, while he twirled his wand in his fingers.

Bill furrowed his forehead and asked concerned: "Everything ok, little brother?"

Without looking at him, nodded Ron: "Sure!" He put his wand in his pocket and looked questioningly at Bill: "Say, Bill, have you ever heard of Darzan and Jane?"

"Darzan and Jane, you say?" Bill repeated thoughtfully – "Hmm!" – "Should I?" – "Hermione implied, that I'm like this Darzan." – Bill chuckled: "Then it's definitely not a compliment".

Ron nudged him in the shoulder: "Arse!"

"Tsk, tsk, I'm afraid, that you still need a lesson in….." – "Shut up, Bill" Ron interrupted, laughing. – Bill jumped up and ruffled Ron's hair: "The youth of today, no respect for elders, eh?" – Ron took a step backwards and grinned: "Watch out, old man, and don't overstretch yourself."

Bill made a rude gesture with his finger and glanced simultaneously at his wristwatch: "Merlin, I hope, it's nearly time for lunch!"

Ron stretched and yawned: "Not bloody likely – unless Mum could rescue the roast lamb."

"Maybe I have slightly exaggerated, uh, with the extent of damage. "

Ron's eyes popped out of his head: "You've lied to Mum?"

Bill grinned mischievous: "The end justifies the means. Besides, I did just a little fib, unlike, your sister-in-laws, who came up with the idea, to jinx the stove."

His brother peered to the door: "Wow, they are .." – "Something very special?!" – "I actually wanted to say 'unmitigated Weasleys', but 'something very special' hits the nail on the head." He sighed: "Nevertheless, I'd better be off, before the lunatic, um, Mum comes back."

"I don't think, this good idea. Mum will be livid, if you disappear without apologizing." warned Bill.

Ron shrugged his shoulder resigned: "So what? Most of the time, I'm not anyway on Molly Weasley's list of the 10 most popular wizards." He avoided Bill's stern look and added softly: "I'm not even among the top 20." Sadly, after all these years, he still believed, that his mother did not love him, like his siblings and Harry. And he was not the only one, who thought so.

Bill recalled a accidentally overheard conversation between Audrey and Angeline, in which Audrey jokingly remarked, the way, Molly mothered Harry, one might get the impression, that he was her baby boy, and not Ron.

Already in early childhood becoming apparent, that Ron had drawn the shortest straw in favor of his mother. When the long-awaited daughter came into the world, Ron was with his fifteen months self almost a baby. He did not understand, why suddenly Ginny, the sweet baby of the family, received all the attention, particularly from his beloved mother.

The inevitable happened, Ron, who felt neglected, did everything, to get noticed – with the result, that his mother was obviously frustrated and irritated about his jealous behavior. Not ideal conditions for a warm son-mother relationship.

Bill only caught a little of it, since he saw his younger siblings only during his school holidays. But in the following years he noticed, that Ickle Ronniekins, who, according to the banter of the twins, was tied to his mummy's apron string, was much closer to their father, than to their mother (and so it was up to date).

Sure, eventually realized his mother Ron's aloofness towards her, but it was too late, the damage was done. And it was an open secret for anyone (but Ron), that Molly envied her daughter-in-law for her close relationship to her youngest son.

His brother grabbed some floo powder out of the vase. "Hey Bill, give the girls my thanks from me." He threw a handful into the fireplace and stepped into the green flames. Lost in thought, nodded Bill.

_And now that the marriage of Ron and Hermione, her beloved daughter-in-law, stood on the brink, it's gotten worse. In his mother's eyes, Ron was the guilty party._

Startled from Ron's loud destination proclamation, Bill looked up in surprise and called after him: "Wait, Ron, did you tell Mum about Elaine?" Judging by the empty fireplace, Ron had not heard Bill's question.

"I knew it!" Puzzled, Bill turned around, to face his disgruntled mother, who added, declaring: "Your brother is having an affair, and you, Wilhelm Arthur Weasley, know about."

Bill's jaw dropped. "How do you get this idea", he croaked amazed.

"Who, if not his mistress, is this Elaine." She spat and went up to him.

_Mistress? Oh mum!_ Bill could not help, he threw his head back and burst out laughing.

"There is nothing to laugh about, Bill." She put her hands on her hips and shot him an offended look.

He started to speak, but could not stop laughing.

His mother's face flushed with anger and she hissed: "Get a grip, Bill. I would like to know, what's so funny, if your brother is having an affair."

Bill wiped the tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes and choked: "Mum, Elaine is the…", he stopped short, to gasp for air, "marriage counselor of Ron and Hermione."

Molly replied tight-lipped: "Marriage counselor?"

He nodded: "Yes, every Monday and Wednesday, they go to the marriage counseling."

"They speak to a complete stranger about their marriage issues?"

"Elaine is a very good friend of Fleur!"

"And a Frenchwoman, I'm right?", she barked

With a frown, he gave her a look of bewilderment: "She is actually French, but I don't know, what you are trying to say."

She snorted: "Your brother is anything, but talkative, when it comes to feelings, except he is with your wife. Therefore, I assume, that he has a…weakness for french women."

Although, he noticed her short break before the word 'weakness', Bill decided, for once, to ignore this stinger: "As I said before, she is a really good friend, who happens to be a marriage counselor." He turned, to leave the room, but stopped at the door. "And one more thing, mum." He looked over his shoulder, and asked in a low and thoughtful voice: "Have you considered, that it might easier for them, to speak in the presence of an outsider about their problems?"

Her hands, which twisted the hem of the apron, stilled, but otherwise his mother showed no reaction.

"But enough of that, I'm so hungry, I could eat a hippogreif." As he moved out the door, he called to her: "Are you coming, mum?!"


	5. Chapter 5

I write, alter text passages, write, and then, I read stories by writers such as Coyote Laughing Softly, ozzel1, MsBinns, Windschild8178, , jesrod82, TenderHooligan, wazlib88 and the other good writers out there. With the result, that my hand hovers over the Del-key on my keyboard.

Despite the use of an online spell-checkers, my stories will always belong to the lower average. But hey, I also write for me and therefore I'll finish this story!

* * *

Elaine grew up in a family of healers and were practically born with a particularly pronounced helper syndrome and the ability listen to others with great sensitivity, an open heart and ear.

Even as a young witch, it was clear, that she will follow in the footsteps of her parents, who both worked as a healer in St. Louis des Invalides (the French counterpart to St. Mungo's in London).

However, her school time at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic changed everything. The news spread quickly, that Elaine always had an open ear for the problems of her schoolmates. It turned out, that she was not only a good listener, but also a good caregiver. The initial problems of the witches, such as homesickness and school, followed in later years by issues in matters of love.

Elaine enjoyed, to help others and to be confronted with different characters. For this reason, she decided, to make her passion to her profession by becoming a marriage counselor.

Just like Fleur Weasley, nee Delacour, she moved after her graduation because of love to London, where she completed her training as a marriage counselor. Her father, who was at first not very enthusiastic about the decisions of his daughter (such as the choice of career and the move to London), was now her biggest supporter. Of course, that has a bit to do with his three granddaughters, whom he spoiled rotten, and the fact, that Elaine's husband worked as a healer.

And so it happened, that she now sat across from the golden trio, or rather 2/3 of the golden trio. Ronald Weasley, _**Ron**_, sitting on the right side of the sofa, visibly uncomfortable in his skin, seemed to be miles away, while his wife Hermione, who sat on the left side, looked totally focused and determined.

Elaine crossed her legs, pulled her dress down over her knees and smiled encouragingly: "Who would like to begin today?" She glanced at Ron, who looked down at his hands in his lap: "Ron?" When he said nothing, she turned to Hermione: "Hermione, do you..." – With a deep sigh Ron cut her off: "No, you're right, I should start." Both women stared at him in surprise.

He glanced up from his lap and smiled wryly: "Did you not say in the first meeting, that I'm tight-lipped?"

Elaine smiled and nodded approvingly: "I can't remember, that I used the term 'tight-lipped', but yes, this hits the nail on the head!"

"And since a fault confessed is half redressed, I'll start." He rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. "Although, I would rather talk about my favorite sport!"

Elaine couldn't resist and muttered dryly: "2nd floor, room 301." - At Ron's questioning look, she winked: "Meeting place of the self-help group for sports fanatics." Hermione snorted, while Ron grinned: "I'll keep that in mind." Elaine suppressed a smirk and waved a hand: "Please continue."

Ron nodded and turned serious. He faced his wife and didn't hesitate: "My unpaid leave was in reality an unpaid suspension!" – Hermione looked at her husband speechless. – "A few days after the..," he halted and cleared his throat: "incident with the followers of the death eaters, Tim Burton, I had the great fortune, to ride in the elevator with two guys from the Office of Improper Use of Magic. Apparently, both believed to be experts in law enforcement and chatted about the adequate punishment for the death eaters and their followers."

He closed his eyes for a moment, to collect himself: "I lost it, as one of them brought this stupid motto 'only a dead Death Eater is a good Death-Eater'. I grabbed him by the collar and…." He halted again and rubbed his neck.

Elaine scribbled 'PTSD?' on her notepad.

Hermione asked her husband shocked: "You hit him?"

'Violent?' ended up next to the word 'PTSD'.

Elaine waited with bated breath for his answer. There was one / two things, which in her eyes are unacceptable. Violent men (or women) usually don't not shy away from violence in marriage, which was absolutely a no-go.

Appalled, Ron's eyes widened: "Of course not, I just gave him a piece of my mind, a right royal dressing down."

Relieved, his wife inhaled audibly, while Elaine firmly crossed out 'violent'.

As she looked up from her notepad, she met Ron's curious glance. She nodded to him: "And then?"

He faced his wife again: "Although, my behavior was inexcusable, Robards let me off with a slap on the hand. " Without taking his eyes from his wife, he declared to Elaine's benefits: "Gawain Robards is the Head of the Auror Office and therefore my boss." He furrowed his brow in an expression of a concentration: "Where was I? Oh yes, my punishment – one month unpaid leave and a half year office duty. And the entry in my personnel file will be deleted after one year, assuming of course, I don't anything wrong."

His wife was quite literally flabbergasted: "Why in heaven's I hear thereof today for the first time?"

"You knew nothing about it?" Elaine asked her in surprise. The Ministry was not exactly known for discretion.

Ron answered her question and laughed bitterly: "This is one of the benefits, when you are a member of the Golden Trio, the Ministry covered up your outbursts."

"That still does not explain, why you didn't come to me!" Hermione remarked, slightly acidified.

"Actually, this was my first impulse, and immediately after Robard's bollocking.." – Elaine raised an eyebrow and Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly. – "Uh, his lecture, I came into your office."

His wife frowned: "I can't remember, that…"

"No wonder, you were busy with more important matters.", he interrupted her.

"And later? For a whole week, you didn't breathe a word!" She asked through clenched teeth.

He ran his fingers through the hair and sighed: "That's the problem, when you are alone at home, you begin to brood. Along came my meeting with Luna, right on the first day of my leave. When she invited me, uh, actually, I invited myself, to join her expedition, I considered it as a kind of sign – no one needed to learn about my suspension."

"Why?" interjected Elaine.

He lifted his eyebrows, surprised, as if the reason should be obvious: "I wanted no one to burden with my mess."

"This concern apparently you did not have with my mother, am I right? She knew everything, from Burton's death, up to the reason for your trip!" Hermione scolded.

"She didn't know the whole story, only a little!" He defended himself.

Angry, his wife raised her voice: "Should I now also feel relieved or even be grateful?" – Ron said nothing. – "Put yourself in my shoes, Ron, instead of talking with me, your wife, you speak with my mother..", she frowned, "and most likely, with Bill, Fleur and Harry, and then you simply disappear for three weeks."

He sighed: "I didn't just disappear, you knew, where I was!"

"Right, that's the only difference to the last time."

Ron asked, puzzled: "What do you mean?"

"Whenever, problems occur, you're running away!" She looked over at Elaine, apparently looking for confirmation: "And I'm certainly not the only one, who recognizes a pattern in your behavior, right."

Ron's head snapped to Elaine: "You also think, that I'm a coward?"

Before Elaine could even utter a peep, already started a shouting match between the couple.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ronald, you know very well, that nobody's consider you as a coward."

Her husband snorted: "Right!"

"There is a difference between cowardice and..."

"And what – fearfulness?"

"We both know, you hide from problems."

"I didn't hide!"

"Hiding or running away, it comes to the same thing! "

Ron jumped up from his seat and gestured with his arms: "I didn't ran away, I only took a break!"

Hermione jumped up as well (Elaine wondered, briefly, if she should conjure a shield between the two): "With another woman?"

"Luna is just a friend, mind you, OUR friend!"

"Who had a crush on you, since, since forever."

"She is engaged and .." He stopped and threw his hands in the air in defeat: "You know what, you're right, I screwed up, again." – Hermione narrowed her eyes. – "But unlike others, I'm mature enough to admit it."

Hermione took several steps toward her husband, who did not back away: "Unlike me, you mean?"

"Yeah, but maybe you think, making out in a hotel room, is a peccadillo."

"It was only a kiss! Besides, I am still waiting for an explanation for Luna's nude photographs from you, you hypocrite!"

Now, where the squabblers stood face to face, respectively, shoe to shoe, Elaine thought it was time, to intervene.

She closed her lips firmly around her fingers and whistled, which had the desired effect: The shouting match stopped and the couple looked at her dumbfounded. She pointed to the sofa and asked kindly: "Won't you please sit down."

Silently, both took their seats without a murmur and Elaine looked from one to the other: "Now, that you calmed down, do you think, we can proceed?"

Hermione sighed and said in a calm voice: "What I really wanted to say, was, that running away, does not help either."

Ron, who pinched his nose, looked up and murmured quietly: "I'm here, didn't I!"

Hermione's face softened and she shifted a bit closer to Ron: "You are!"

Elaine used the opportunity and asked: "Why you can talk to other, but not with your wife?"

Ron thought for a moment and finally replied: "They make it easy for me."

"How so?"

"Take for example my mother in law, she puts on a kettle of water, sits down next to me and everything bubbles out of me. With Fleur it is no different, and Harry is Harry, we don't even need words."

"You mean, they don't not push you?"

He stared at her surprised, but nodded in confirmation: "Exactly."

As Hermione opened her mouth, Elaine held up her hand, to stop her: "Go on, Ron."

"I grew up with 6 siblings..", he shrugged his shoulders, "the most expressed words in my childhood were 'not now', followed up with 'other have bigger problems'!"

Out the corner of her eyes, Elaine observed, how Hermione placed her hand, seemingly at random, close to his hand, which lay on his thigh. Ron, unaware of his wife's advances, nodded in thought: "At some point you are used to it, you know, to keep your troubles to yourself."

"Ron, I know, it's hard, to break through well-worn patterns, but you need.."

He sighed: "I tried!"

"Sorry?"

"After the war, I realized…", he looked a little embarrassed, "of course, with the help of my pesky sister, I would have saved us a lot of heartache, if only I had opened my mouth."

Elaine smiled: "A very sensible advice."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "Sensible? Ginny?", repeated Ron slowly and began to snort with laughter, even Hermione's lips twitched in amusement.

Since Ron was still laughing to himself, Hermione continued: "The first few years in our relationship, he followed this advice and I firmly believes, we are on the right road. We could talk about anything and everything." She rubbed her forehead and sighed: "Then, about a half year ago, he was suddenly broody and distant."

Ron's laughter died: "It's a wonder, you have noticed that at all."

"You are my husband, Ron, of course, I noticed the changes in you and in our relationship!"

Riotously, He raised an eyebrow: "Really? I had the impression, that you have only work in mind after your promotion."

Hermione shook her head vehemently: "That is not true!"

"Not true? Heaven knows how long ago, that we spent a cozy evening at home or went out, just the two of us.."

"It will get better, as soon as I am familiar with my new area of responsibility."

"And how long, do you think, that will last. A few weeks, months or even a year?" Ron asked.

"It takes, how long it takes." She defended herself.

"Put yourself in my position, Hermione. I'm tired of having to go everywhere alone, to eat alone. Fucking hell, I see your stupid cat more than you, while you prefer clearly the presence of Mr. Oh-so-charming-Whitaker."

Hermione stiffened: "We are colleagues, who happen to work closely together." – He muttered something under his breath. – His wife narrowed her eyes dangerously: "How was that?" – "I said 'to closely'" – She flushed in anger: "Do you think I'm office slut, who making out with her colleague in her office?" – Ron's jaw tightened. – "Answer me, Ronald, or I swear by merlin's…."

"I have seen you..." – "beard, that…what are you talking about?" – Ron blew out a long breath: "When I got back from this fucking mission, I wanted to see you." As Hermione looked confused, he rushed his next words out: "Although, it was already late at night, you were not home, so I came into your office. Imagine my surprise, when I saw you and him together on the sofa." - Incredulously, Elaine saw at Hermione, who frowned in thought. – "Eating something." – Elaine escaped a sigh of relief - unnoticed by Hermione and Ron.

"With the best will, I don't remember!" Hermione muttered.

"Should I refresh your memory? You had your shoes taken off, takeaway food in hand, sitting cross-legged,…."

Hermione covered her mouth.

"Now it drops again, right!"

She lowered her hand and whispered incredulously: "That was the reason for your behavior? We ate only together, don't snog…" She broke off.

Ron laughed bitterly: "If I remember correctly, you saved this part for later." He waved: "But don't worry, that was not the only reason."

Elaine stepped in and asked: "Why didn't confront her, immediately, right there?"

He rubbed his neck: "Let me put it this way, I was not in good shape."

"And what did you do instead?"

He cleared his throat: "Since it was too late, to bother my sister-in-law and my brother, I picked my broom and flew around, you know, to clear my mind. Somehow I ended in front of the Burrow and, unfortunately, I remembered my Dad's Emergency Potion, which he hid in the shed. So, I grabbed the bottle of whiskey, sat down at Fred's grave and bathed in self-pity."

"All night?" Elaine asked curios, while Hermione looked frightened at the thought.

He blushed: "I'm not good with the heating-charm, so against three o'clock I sneaked into the house and fell asleep on the sofa. Thank merlin, my father found and woke me, before my mother. Since he thought, Hermione and I had a row, he gave me a slap on the back and a hangover potion, and sent me home."

"And I thought you got only then back!" Hermione muttered.

"Weelllll." he stretched the word out.

Elaine looked at her watch and sighed: "I fear, that's my cue! Any last words for today's meeting?"

Hermione faced her husband: "Ron, you are more important to me, than any work and that will never change!"

Elaine turned to Ron: "Ron?"

He thought for a second and then grinned: "In which room you said, is the meeting from the sports fanatic?"

As Elaine met Hermione's sad and disapointing glance, she gave her a reassuring nod.

* * *

Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his chair and looked at Ronald Weasley: "So, if I understand you correctly, you ask for financial support for a prevention program."

The young Auror nodded: "We, Professor McGonagall and I, also think of a meeting place in London, Sir."

"This all sounds great…."

Ron sighed: "I suspect there is a but, right, Sir."

"Unfortunately, my hands are tied. The Majority of the Wizards' Council decides on the allocation of funds."

"I understand, Sir! Anyway, thank you for your time." He replied, understandably disappointed with the outcome, and rose from his chair.

"Not so fast, my young friend!" Kingsley turned to his senior assistant, "Percy, when hold the Council the next meeting?"

"Tomorrow, in a week, Sir."

Satisfied, Kingsley rubbed his hands: "Plenty of time, to add one more item on the agenda." He winked at Ron: "And for you, to prepare a speech for the Council."

"W..what? You can't be s…erious!" Ron stammered.

Percy nudged his brother: "Ron, don't forget, who…"

Kingsley lifted his hand and stopped Percy's efforts, to remind his brother of the formally correct behavior towards the Minister of Magic: "It's all right, Percy." He gave Ron an amused look: "I can assure you, that I am very serious about it!"

Ron shook his head negatively: "No, absolutely not!" He pointed to his brother and croaked: "Ask Perce, ask everyone here, I am not an orator material."

Kingsley stood up, put his arm around Ron's shoulder and escorted him to the door: "A no is not accepted and I'm sure, my best man, will give you a hand, right Percy?"

"Of course, Sir", confirmed Percy seriously. He examined his brother: "But first, I'll take him to the canteen, I think, after this fright, he needs something sweet."

* * *

10 minutes later, the two brothers sat with their brother-in-law in the canteen of the Ministry and enjoyed their piece of chocolate cake.

Percy breathed into his teacup, took a sip and asked his brother curious: "How will you proceed?" – Ron stared at his brother with a blank expression. – Percy rolled his eyes: "Don't you think, you need a strategy."

Harry swallowed down a little chunk of his cake and grunted: "No problem, strategy is Ron's strength."

Said Strategist stroked his chin thoughtfully: "Mmmh, Perce, tell me, how many members of the Council are female?"

"Seven belong to the female and five to the male sex."

His little brother grinned and winked at Harry: "Problem solved. I bring the Witches on my site and have the majority in the bag."

"How will you to do that?"

He gets into a pose and threw his nonexistent mane over his shoulder á la Gilderoy Lockhart: "I bewitched them with my patented Weasley's charm." And stuffed a large piece of his cake in his mouth.

Chuckling, Percy punched him, while Harry snorted: "You're not at all cocky!"

Ron grinned: "Nope!"

The three of them laughed, until Percy held up his hand: "Guys, calm down. Seriously, Ron, it will not be easy, to wheedle the Council out of galleons. The treasurer sits literally on his galleons. You have to convince him with facts and figures. It would be best, if you had someone, who could help with the research!"

Ron gave his brother a pleading look, but Percy shook his head: "I would love to help you, but unfortunately, I still have to make some preparations for the upcoming meeting."

Harry pointed with his fork to the counter: "What about her?"

Ron looked over his shoulder and shrieked appalled: "Blimey, Potter, Brunhilda, are you crazy?"

Harry chuckled: "No, actually I meant the woman in front of the counter, Mrs. Graham. I've heard, she did a lot of research for Hermione."

While Ron observed Hilda Graham at the food distribution, he thought about Harry's suggestion and had to agree with him. There was only one problem, he turned back to Harry: "There is only one little problem", he leaned over the table and whispered: "SHE HATE ME"

His mate shrugged his shoulders: "So what, finally, thou shalt not marry her. You can also try your patented Weasley charm."

Percy nodded in agreement: "Harry is right! Mrs. Graham is known for her reliability and discretion."

"Are you sure?" – Harry and Percy nodded their agreement and Ron got up, he gulped: "Grit your teeth and get to it, right?!"

Harry gave him with both hands a thumb-up: "I believe in you, mate!"

Ron turned around and slowly approached the counter.

Percy faced his brother-in-law: "He looks, as if he is going to his own execution."

Harry eyed Ron with compassion: "Honestly, I would not like to be in his shoes."

* * *

Hilda Graham pushed her tray to the cash register. As she reached into her handbag, to bring out her purse, said a voice behind her: "May I?" Confused, she looked up. Before her stood Auror Weasley, who counted sickles in his palm and handed them to the cashier.

Annoyed, she scolded: "Auror Weasley, I am able to pay for my meal!"

Without being asked, he took her tray and gazed around searchingly. He pointed with his chin to a free table: "Hurry, before someone else snatches the seats from under our's nose."

Grumbling to herself, Hilda followed him to said table. He set the tray on the table, pulled out a chair and offered her a seat.

After he had taken his own seat, he cleared his throat and looked her straight in the eye: "I will not beat around the bush, Mrs. Graham, I need your help."

"First, you kidnap me.." – "There! There, if at all, I kidnapped your tray." – Hilda Graham shot him an icy stare. – Remorseful, he muttered: "Sorry!" – "And then you expect my help?" – "Yeah, I know we've had a bad start, but I cannot imagine any better for this, uh, work."

"You already know, that I work for your wife and not for the Auror Office." – Ron nodded and added in thought 'and for David fuckingwhitaker'. – "Besides, I'm fully occupied and and have therefore no time for whatever insignificant Auror-Stuff!" – "Insignificant Stuff?" Ron repeated dumbfounded. She tapped impatiently with her teaspoon against her tea mug: "May I finally enjoy my tea in peace, Auror Weasley!"

Ron rose and said stiffly: "Sorry for taking up your time, Mrs. Graham. Enjoy your tea and try the chocolate cake, which really tastes heavenly."

Hilda sighed and stopped him: "Just not as fast, Auror Weasley. Maybe you tell me first of all, what it's all about."

"That's all I wanted!" He grinned and resembled a boy, whose greatest wish was fulfilled. "But first..", his eyes sparkle with mischievous, "I'll get us both a piece of chocolate cake, all right?"

Shaking her head, she watched him, as he walked elated to the cash counter.

* * *

Elaine looked down at her notepad: "During the evaluation of the questionnaire, I noticed, that you answered the question no. 17 in different ways."

Ron looked questioningly at his wife and whispered: "Question no. 17?" Hermione shrugged.

Elaine glanced up: "How do you assess your sex life."

Simultaneously, the couple blushed. Surprisingly, Ron recovered the fastest from the shock. He gave his wife a quick glance, before he leaned forward to Elaine and whispered behind his hand: "No matter, what Hermione says, it is a normal size."

Horrified, Hermione screeched: "Ron!"

Elaine's lips twitched in amusement and winked: "All men say so – just as as women say, the size does not matter." – Ron's cheeky grin vanished. – "But don't worry, your wife answered the question with 'fulfilled and satisfied'…", she glanced down at her notes, "while your reply was 'scheduled'!" – Hermione's eyes widened and she turned with raised eyebrows to her husband. – "Could you please explain, why you gave this rather strange answer".

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and mocked: "Yeah, Ronald, please explain yourself!"

Her husband rubbed his neck sheepishly: "Uh, before we broke up, we had only scheduled sex, you know, if the appointment calendar of my wife allowed it." After looking at his irate wife, he added: "But if I, uh, get a leg over…" – Shamefaced, Hermione buried her face in her hands and moaned. – "it was bloody fantas…, uh, fulfilled and satisfied."

"Could you please explain?" – Confused, Ron stared at her. – Elaine laughed: "I'm really curious, what do you mean by sex according to schedule."

"When Hermione needs to prepare a case, she usually works late into the night. With the result, that she is dead on her feet. As soon as she gets home, she falls into bed and does not wake up before the alarm bells."

Hermione glared at him and hissed: "And every Friday evening plays my neglected husband with his colleagues Quidditch and comes quite exhausted home, isn't that so, honey?" She raised her eyebrow, as if to say 'dare not to say anything else'.

Ron snapped back: "Yeah, and it' a turns on, when I find a note in the morning, be ready at 20.00 o'clock."

"It's not like, that you have a great desire to make love anymore."

As usual, Ron blushed and glanced aside.

Elaine leaned forward and patted his knee "It is normal, that stress leads to sexual problems."

Hermione furrowed her brow in thought and tapped her lips with her finger: "I remember, that I've read something about it, just recently."

Horrified, Ron jumped up: "Bloody hell!" He pointed to his lap: "The problem is not here.. ", he pointed to his head, "but here."

Both women looked at him in silence, until Elaine said: "Brooding is one reason for a mental block. But don't worry, Ron, I can assure you, that many wizards have the same problem."

"And I can assure you, that my wand is fully functional..", shouted Ron and cast his eyes to his wife, "right Muffin?1" – Hermione's grin faded, as she stared at him. In contrast to the unsuspecting Ron, Elaine remarked immediately, that Hermionee was in the best sense positive surprised by Ron's sign of affection and Elaine suspected, that it was a while, since he had addressed her with this nickname.

When his "Muffin" did not respond, he looked at her irritated: "Hermione?"

To draw his attention away from a teary-eyed Hermione to herself, Elaine cleared her throat: "You really don't need to be ashamed, Ron, like you, no man like to speak about this problem, they deny it even."

"I don't deny it, because I did not have this problem." He pulled at his hair full of despair.

"That's not quite right.", spoke Hermione, who had apparently regained her composure, up, "On the day as James was born, you couldn't perform the act."

He laughed sheepishly: "That was once, and only because I was drunk!"

"More likely two or three times!" She turned to Elaine, who she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing: "Do you have any book recommendations on this topic?".

Quite mischievously our Hermione, respect, Elaine thought. – Ron looked, as he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. – She nodded: "With pleasure. When you like, I can also give you some brochures."

Hermione's eyes lit up and clasped her hands: "I'd love to!"

Elaine pulled out her wand and called: "Accio brochures." And a short time later lay on the table a bunch of brochures. While Ron eyed them with disgust, Hermione took without hesitation one with the designated title 'If the wizard can't, then what?' in her slightly trembling hand, thus showing that she inwardly was churned.

"Seriously, Hermione?", grumbled Ron.

"It cannot hurt, to get informed" She replied, seemingly deadly serious.

Her husband huffed and leaned back with a pout on his lips – and so he missed, that her lips twitched up in an amused smirk.

* * *

As usual, the men stopped after their weekly Quidditch game (several months after the war, they joined the amateur league) in their favorite pub 'Leaky Cauldron'.

Hannah, landlady of the pub, and wife of Neville Longbottom, gave them a short welcoming, before she busily turned back to her other guests.

George, Harry and Percy gathered around a bar table, as they waited for Ron, who was today responsible for the drinks. Immediately, George and Harry began a chat about their favorite topics (Brooms and Quidditsch). And as always Percy, a rather involuntary member of the Quidditsch team, was limited to listening.

To the cheers of George, Ron finally came with the drinks. It required much skill, to balance the filled glasses through the crowd, but the experience taught him, to give up a levitation spell in a crowded pub. Although, he knew now the spell' Wingardium Leviosa' from the inside out.

Arriving at table, he called cheerfully: "A round of whiskey for George, Harry and me…", he handed out the glasses, "and one glass of butterbeer for our Perce. Cheers!"

George grinned mischievously: "Wait, first a toast." He raised his glass and the others did the same: "There is more friendship in a glass of whisky, then in a bottle of butterbeer!" He emptied his glass in one swallow. Percy, used to be teased, kept a straight face, and sipped calmly from his butterbeer.

Ron, who took a big sip from the glass, shook himself: "Merlin, that stuff knocks your shoes off!" Harry nodded and croaked: "A true rotgut." George laughed: "You are all sissies, all of you."

Perce rolled his eyes and faced his little brother: "And how's it going with your therapy."

Ron wiggled his hand: "So-so….…" Before he could carry on, George interrupted him and asked, astonished: "I thought, you need only a therapist, if you….", he held his index finger to his temple and made a rotating movement.

His brother grumbled, upset: "Git! Elaine is marriage counselor and…" He stopped abruptly and his eyes widened: "Bloody hell!"

"What?" Harry asked, looking around.

Ron nodded gloomily towards to the doorway, where stood none other than a, as always, impeccably dressed David Whitaker. An arm casually around the shoulders of a very young blonde, he let his gaze wander around the pub, probably in search of a free table.

George followed Ron's eyes: "Who is this tosser?"

Ron slouched his shoulders and gazed into his glass: "It's him!"

George stared at the lowered head of his brother and asked incredulously: "And the bastard can still stand upright?"

"George!", warned Harry.

Ron sighed and glanced up: "Believe me, George, if I could, I would wipe that arrogant smile off his face."

At that moment, David caught sight of them. He whispered something into the ear of the unknown beauty. As she nodded in agreement, David gave her a pat on the bum. Judging the expression of her face, she was ashamed of his behavior. Face flushed, she hurried over to the counter, while David purposefully approached their table.

"I'll be back in a moment!", muttered George and set out on in the direction of the toilets.

Arrived at the table, David greeted Harry and Percy with an exaggerated smile: "Guys!". He turned to Ron: "Weasley!" Ron replied through gritted teeth: "Whitaker!" He eyed Ron with an raised eyebrow: "New look? I didn't know, that Hermione has a thing for bearded men." Ron's grip tightened on the glass and his knuckles turned white. Harry clenched his hands into fists, but otherwise stayed calm: "You shouldn't keep your date waiting any longer, moreover, in a bar full of gawking men, don't you think?!"

David glanced quickly to the bar and grinned broadly: "Who can blame them, Linda is a real hottie. A little shy…" He clicked his tongue and winked suggestively: "but it's always the quiet ones, isn't it?". Then he looked at Ron with a smug grin: "Don't you agree?" He briefly raised his hand in farewell and finally left.

Ron shut his eyes and took a deep breath: "I swear, a minute longer and I would have lost it." Harry gave a tired smile: "As soon as George gets back, we disappear, all right?" He put the glass to his lips and took a sip from his whiskey.

Percy muttered to himself: "The favorite of all female employees, my arse." – Harry choked on his whiskey and coughed. – His brother-in-law knocked him on the back: "What? It's true. If one deserves an lesson, then he." Ron hesitated, glanced thoughtfully at the counter and then turned to Percy and Harry: "Listen up guys, before we go, I have to do one small thing."

Harry, wiping his watery eyes, and started: "No frigging way …..!"

Ron put his hand briefly on Harry's shoulder: "Don't worry, mate." And walked over to David. He cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder. Surprised, David turned around. Ron dug into his pocket and pulled out the cufflink. He held it between thumb and forefinger, and smiled: "I think, that is yours."

David's eyes lit up: "Holy shit, I've looked everywhere, where you have found it?" As he reached out his hand, to take his property, Ron pulled the piece of jewelry out of his reach and replied: "In the hotel room my wife!".

Untouched by the involuntary gasp of David's date, Linda, he dropped the cufflink and as hoped, it plops down into the David's glass: "Oops, clumsy me."

Furious, David jumped up and reached into his jacket: "Fuck you!"

Harry Potter's icy voice rang out, saying: "Keep your hands off your wand, Whitaker!"

"He provokes ME!", cried David, his hand still in the jacket.

Harry stepped closer: "Come on, give me a reason!"

Meanwhile, a circle of audience had formed around them and someone called: "If I were in your shoes, I would leave my wand in my fancy jacket!".

David swallowed and withdrew his hand out of his jacket. As Ron turned away, David grabbed his arm and whispered: "You cannot forever hide behind Potter!"

Ron hissed: "Give me time and place, and I'll be there." He glanced down at David's hand: "And now, take your filthy hand off me!"

David dropped his hand, as if he burned his fingers, and Ron walked off. "It was only a matter of time, until your wife realized, that you are a pain in the arse!", called David after him, but, without turning around, Harry and Ron disappeared through the door.

Meanwhile, George worked his way through the crowd to his brother and asked him in amazement: "Oi, what's going on here." Percy glanced at him and sighed: "The short or long version?"

At that moment, Hannah clapped her hands and shouted: "Come on, guys, the shows is over." And indeed, the crowd began to dissolve slowly, although not without murmurings.

"Crap, I'm going for a minute to piss, and'll miss a show!", complained George

Shaking his head, Percy gave him a push towards the door: "Come on, George, let's go too."

Unfortunately, now that Ron and Harry were gone, David's anger was directed against them and he prevented their peaceful withdrawal: "Your brother thought actually, he can keep a witch like Hermione?" George froze, his face flushed, but Percy quickly tried to calm him down: "Don't let him provoke you, he is not worth it."

But David followed them to the door and mocked: "Everyone thinks, that he's just a ball and chain."

Enough was enough, Percy revolved around and slammed his fist into David's face. The resounding crack of breaking bone went through the room and David Whitaker fell with a cry to the ground.

George looked with open mouth at Percy, who was breathing heavily. Suddenly, it was quiet as mice in the pub.

David pressed his a hand to his face and blood ran through his fingers: "Fluck chou, chou bloke my nothe.*" Shocked of himself, Percy tried to help him stand, but David pushed his hand away and pulled himself up. He fumbled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and held it to his bleeding nose: "Wheaslech, chou'll pach fol that**." He pointed in the round: "Chou all ale mch whithneffef.***"

Hannah, who rushed to them, tried to calm him: "First of all, we take care of your nose."

"Ale chou clalzy? My nose whill be noth fixed by a balmaid****."

Hannah lowered her wand and shrugged: "Fine, fine, it's your nose. And as for that witnesses matter, to be honest, my husband and I are very close friends of the Weasleys. But maybe someone else is willing to help you." She cleared her throat and shouted: "Listen, did anyone seen, what happened here?"

General shaking of the head was the response.

George looked grateful in the round and raised his hand in thanks, before he pulled his brother out of the door.

Angry, shouted David in the round and pointed at his female companion "And ifh, my gillfliend, hele, can confilm ith*****!"

Right on cue, Linda slid off the stool and picked up her glass from the bar: "Well, David, you may think that, but you're wrong." Under the cheers of the crowd, she tossed her drink in his face and left with head held high – leave the humiliated David behind.

Hannah clapped her hands and cried: "Come on, everybody, drinks on the house for all of you."

Outside, George looked at his brother, as if he saw him for the first time. He shook his head and chuckled: "Merlin's beard, with which was your butterbeer peppered?" – Percy grinned sheepishly. – "Come, I'll apparate you home!" As George reached for Percy's hand, his brother yelled in pain.

George frowned and asked, anxiously: "Shit, what's wrong." – Percy looked at his knuckles, which were swollen, and tried to move the fingers. This action elicited him a sharp intake of breath and his face screwed up with pain: : "I think, my hand is broken." He clasped his hand to his chest and gave George a miserable look. George did not hesitate and grabbed Percy's left arm: "Alright, St. Mungo's, it is then!"

* * *

Elaine smiled at Hermione encouragingly, now it was time for her turn and moment of truth.

She inhaled deeply and faced her husband: "Let me start with the incident in Stockholm. When there was a knock on my door, I hoped, for a little crazy moment, that you are standing outside the door. Even, when someone called 'Room Service'. After all, you used to surprise me. You can't imagine my disappointment, as I opened the door and David stood before me." She looked quickly to Elaine, who nodded encouragingly, and continued: "I think, he has pretended to be my husband, to find out from the reception my room number."

Nervously, she wrung her hands: "First, I wanted to send him away, but he did not let up and insisted, that we drink to my successful lecture. In order not to attract more attention, I invited him into my room. Now I know, that was a mistake, but at that time I thought, a glass of champagne was the only way, to get rid of him."

She glanced at her husband, but he said nothing: "He probably felt, that I was not in a good mood and tried to cheer me up with Muggle-quotes. I will not lie, at some point, I couldn't help, but laugh. It felt so good, that I decided to enjoy the evening. So, we emptied the whole bottle of champagne, with the result, that were both tipsy."

Elaine observed Ron, who sat cross-legged in his corner of the sofa, except, a twitch of his little finger of his right hand, he showed no reaction.

"Later, when I guided him to the door, he joked, that you are lucky sod and he would not let me out of sight, if I were his wife." She blushed. "As I said, I had so much to drink, I only know, that I was in high spirits, probably also a little flattered, and something like 'you are really sweet' said. At the door, when I was about to kiss his cheek, he turned his head, so that I met his lips." She bit her lower lip and whispered: "A..and I let it happen."

Ron raised his eyebrows and asked, fairly quiet by his standards: "And how long was the kiss? 30 seconds, 1 minute?"

She shirked from his look: "I pushed him away, only when…"

"Only when what?", Ron questioned impatiently, "Come on, Hermione, I want to know every effing detail."

"He pushed me against the door and wanted to deepen the kiss!" Hermione's eyes filled with tears and Elaine handed her a handkerchief.

"In plain language, he shoved his tongue into in your throat!" – Hermione wiped her tears off and and remained silent. – "I'm waiting!" – She kneaded the handkerchief with her fingers and nodded.

"Why on earth did you allow this?", Ron inquired.

"I was tipsy, angry at you, jealous of Luna – I think, something from someone."

"Once again, others are to blame! If you are head over heels with him, why don't you just say that?"

Horrified, she croaked: "I don't love him." She reached for his hand, but he crossed his arms over his chest. "I love only you, Ron!" she replied.

Ron jumped up: "I refuse, to listen to your lies any longer." He turned to Elaine: "Sorry, but i gotta go", he cast his wife a contemptuous look, "I urgently need fresh air."

"Please stay!", begged Hermone, her voice choked with emotion.

"Did not your parents taught you, that, if you play with fire, you must expect to get your fingers burned." He sneered, before he went to the fireplace, to grab there a handful of Floo powder.

Elaine got up: "Wait, Ron!" – He stopped, waiting. – "Before you go, I want to give you something on the way. You may think, that Hermione deserves not your forgiveness for this kiss, but let me tell you, with that, you harm not only your wife, but yourself. An open mental wound, keeps you from easy going through life, leads to constant brooding and prevents a fresh start."

He tossed the floo powder into the fireplace and whispered sadly: "Perhaps, I don't want a fresh start." He walked into the emerald green fire, declared his desired destination and disappeared.

Hermione covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking with harsh sobs.

"And the best thing about forgiveness: you can do it all by yourself." Elaine added in a whisper, while she sat down on the sofa and put her arms around Hermione.

* * *

A few hours later, it was already dark night, Hermione sat next to her sister-in-law on the sofa and sipped from her herbal tea. Relieved, Ginny noticed in Hermione's behavior a change for the better. The end of the world pain had given way to willingness to fight. Hours ago, after her and Ron's meeting, she appeared at the Potter residence and collapsed in Ginny's arms.

Ginny did, what she had to do, she pushed her son James into the arms of her helpless husband and sent both of her boys to bed. Then she put the kettle on the stove, took Harry's supply of chocolate frogs out of the fridge, sat down next to Hermione on the sofa, covered her sister-in-law and herself with the blanket and wept together with her.

Only when all the chocolate frogs were gone and their flow of tears stopped, Hermione told her down to the last detail of the meeting, only interrupted by hiccups. Ginny patted Hermione's hand compassionately. "That bastard!" After all, she's not one, to keep her opinions to herself.

Hermione wiped the remaining tears from her face and sniffed: "I'm – _hic_ – the guilty, not – _hic_ \- he."

"You're defending him? Really? Even though this was his plan, right from the beginning?"

"_Hic – Ginny – hic – w_hat you're talking – _hic_ – about!"

"I'm talking about the fact, that he wants to get in your knickers, and that for quite some time!"

Hermione opened her mouth - and closed it again. Then she croaked: "You mean, David?"

"Of course! I swear, when Harry told me about this disgraceful restrooms chat, I wanted to use the Bat-Bogey Hex on him."

"Restroom chat?", Hermione replied weakly.

Ginny's eyes widened: "Don't tell, you know nothing about it?" – "About what?" – Ginny whispered: "Harry James Potter, you stupid, stupid man..." Shaking her head, she threw the blanket aside: "I'll be right back!". Said it, apparate and came back with a sleepy Harry in tow, who wore an old bathrobe and pink fleecy slippers (hopefully, Ginny's).

Yawning, he put his glasses on his nose and waved over his shoulder: "Follow me, ladies." He headed to the bookshelf, where he faced his wife: "Are you sure, that's a good idea?"

Ginny put her hands on her hips: "She has a right to know, don't you think!"

Sighing, he knocked three times with his wand against a thick book and muttered an incantation with the result, that a secret room was visible.

He stepped aside: "Ladies first!" Ginny took Hermione's hand and pulled her into the room.

While Harry prepared his pensieve, Hermione glanced around curiously. Her eyes rested on Harry's possessions from his school days, the Marauder's Map and his invisibility cloak.

Without looking up, Harry told her: "As the father of a handful boy you have to take precautions!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows: "James is not even a year and cannot walk."

"Not yet, but soon!" He muttered and poured his memory in the Pensieve: "All right, we can start."

Hermione nodded and stepped to the basin, followed by Ginny.

Harry grabbed the hand of his wife and pulled her back: "What you are doing, sweetie?"

"I support my friend!"

"Ginny!" – "Harry!" – "Please, Ginny, be reasonable." – She leaned over and said quietly: "7 hours contractions!" – Shaking his head, Harry dropped his wife's hand and gave her a pat on her bottom: "Off you go, my little blackmailer."

Beaming, she stood next to Hermione. Harry cleared his throat: "Before you dive in my memory, I would like to remind you of the following: Firstly, Ron knows nothing of this and so it should stay! Secondly, this memory took place in the men's room. Therefore, a warning first…."

His wife rolled her eyes: "We see other men, when their nature calls – so what, I could imagine wors…" – Harry interrupted her hastily "Don't worry, you'll only see me…" – Hermione's eyes widened appalled. – Her brother-in-law blushed and added: "Reading the newspaper on the toilet." – "You read the newspaper on the toilet of the Ministry?" – "Not always, only, if I want to be undisturbed, you know." Embarrassed, he pulled his earlobe and gave them a sheepish grin.

Ginny nudged Hermione with her shoulder and winked: "I don't know, if I can keep this secret side of the great Harry Potter for me."

Harry ignored the comment from his wife deliberate and continued: "And thirdly, unusual circumstances call for desperate measures." Ginny stared at him questioningly, but her husband pointed to the Pensieve: "Now, go ahead!"

Ginny took Hermione's hand and squeezed it reassuringly: "On the count of three?" When Hermione nodded in agreement, Ginny began to count:

"One"

"Two"

"Three!" they said together and put their heads into the silvery substance.

And indeed, they caught sight of Harry, who sat on the closed toilet lid. Absorbed, in his newspaper, rather, in the sports section of the newspaper, he didn't respond to the creaking of the door. His wife shook her head, but smiled fondly.

A few seconds later, the door creaked again and someone muttered: "Long time no see, McCallum!" while the first person only grunted in response.

As the two men began to talk outside his cabin, Harry glanced up from the newspaper and listened. Hermione also pricked up her ears, and in fact, she recognized one of the voices. She mouthed to Ginny: "David Whitaker." – Ginny giggled: "Hermione, you don't have to whisper, you know, they cannot hear us!" – "Oops, I forgot." – "Shhh, now it gets interesting."

"Well, David, I've heard, that you enjoy your work - **under** the supervision of the new **under** secretary!" McCallum laughed. The noise of a zipper was heard, followed by a pee

"A gentleman never tells." David also began to pee, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and twisted their faces in disgust.

"Shit, David, I just wanted to make a joke! Don't tell me, you jumped in the sack with her?!", McCallum cried stunned.

"Shhh, not so loud!" hissed David and the conversation died down to a whisper.

Ginny watched, curious, her husband's reaction, which followed on the heels. He pulled out a magic item from his pocket (Aha! The mentioned unusual circumstances) and pushed it with his foot gently under the cabin door. The upgraded version of the Extendable Ears, without strings, fitted with its handy size in every pocket.

Thank merlin, neither McCallum nor Whitaker didn't use the Imperturbable Charm, and so they could continue with the eavesdropping.

Just, when one of the two stopped his peeing and pulled his zipper up.

"I always thought, that married women are not your thing!" McCallum wondering and pressed the toilet flushing.

David Whitaker also flushed the toilet. Fortunately, he waited with his next words, until the noise subsided. "Maybe, I have changed my individual dating rules." He laughed suggestively: "In and out, no obligations. No, seriously, she is not like my usual bed bunnies, it…she could be more!"

"A One-Night Stand, well and good, but an affair is quite a different thing, especially, as she is married with Potter's sidekick!"

"So what?"

"Fuck, David, he is an Auror!"

"Who is, according to his wife, afraid of spiders!", mocked David Whitaker.

Ginny frowned, why for heaven's sake Hermione told him about Ron's phobia.

"Also, I'm not talking about an affair, more like something permanent." David continued.

"Why her, I mean, all the women faint at your feet." McCallum sounded a little envious.

"She is something very special, knows what she wants, is successful and famous." David clicked his tongue: "And her curves are in the right place. Short and sweet, she is the perfect witch for me and who knows, one day Mrs. Granger-Whitaker."

Outraged, Ginny turned to Hermione, who was paled.

"Aren't you forgetting something?!"

David Whitaker chuckled: "Of course, first she needs to get a divorce from the redhead."

Hermione gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"And what about Linda?"

David sighed: "Her tits and ass are nothing to sneeze at, but, a successful man needs a successful woman at his side and frankly, I can't imagine Linda as wife of …."

McCallum interrupted him: "…the future Minister of Magic, I understand. There's only one thing left to say: good luck, old warhorse!"

"Shallow men believe in luck. Strong men believe in cause and effect."

Without washing their hands, they left the room and Ginny and Hermione the Pensieve.

* * *

On the Monday morning, following the incident with Percy Weasley, David hurried into his office, where he dropped with a sigh of relief into his chair. There were no indications, that the embarrassing episode had penetrated into the Ministry. At his curt nod in her direction, the old crow, Hilda Graham, responded as always: with a dark look. So nothing new.

He drummed his fingers on his desk, to resist the impulse, to palpate his nose on any deformity. It will take a few days, until the bones were grown together properly, and David didn't want to risk his good looks, just because he was too impatient. Instead, he contented himself with a glance into the magic window. And as he studied his reflection, he had to admit, the healer had done a great job with the 'refurbishment'.

All of a sudden, the door to his office flew open and an apparently very applied Hermione burst into the room, on her lips a wild abuse.

After he got over his surprise, David rose up and walked around his desk, to meet her: "Whoa, Hermione!" He lifted his hands and placed them on her shoulders: "Calm down!" Furious, she shook off his hands and shouted: "Don't touch me, you bastard!"

Fuck, she's heard about it. He forced himself, to calm down and took a step back, to settle down on the corner of his desk. He folded his arms over his chest and gently asked: "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? You're the matter!" She hissed, her eyes shining with rage and disappointment. Shaking her head, she put a hand on her forehead and looked at the floor: "And I thought actually, I owned a good knowledge of human nature – only to discover, that I have not a bit of it." She glanced up and laughed bitterly: "Otherwise, I would not fooled by your friendly demeanor!"

Undeterred by her outburst, David looked her straight in the eye, as he lied: "I'm your friend!"

"A fine friend, who wanted only one thing, namely, to get laid!" David opened his mouth, but was cut off by her: "Don't lie to me!"

"If it were so, no one could blame me for it, after all, you're a very sexy woman." David answered deliberately.

"Shut up, David! You know very well, that I'm not interested in you, as more….."

"Let me finish, Hermione!" He got up from the desk and approached her slowly (well aware, that a different tactic was appropriate here): "You must have noticed, at least since Stockholm, that I developed feelings, which go far beyond friendship, for you. And if you give us a chance, I'm sure, we set the wizarding world on fire."

"Are you crazy?" She stepped back: "I love my husband!" She pointed a finger between him and herself: "That will never happen! It'll be a cold day in hell, when I let you touch me again."

David's mask slipped and he smiled arrogantly: "Judging by your reaction, Mrs. Undersecretary, your husband can't give you, what I give you. If I remember rightly, you were more than willingly and only because of your sudden pangs of conscience, it did not come to extremes."

She sucked air, before she spoke quietly through clenched teeth: "You've taken advantage of my vulnerability."

He went up, until he stood directly in front of her: "Vulnerability? Don't act naïve, Hermione! If you invite a man in your hotel room, you knew exactly, what you're doing." He pursed his lips: "Or maybe there is another reason, why you chickened out?!" Brows drawn together in thoughtful consideration, he nodded his head: "Of course, that also explains, why your husband was traveling with another witch to the other end of the world. You're frigid!"

Hermione reached out and slapped him across the face with full force: "How dare you!"

David howled in agony: "Mh noshe!"

* * *

1 = this pet name for Hermione I, unscrupulous, "borrowed" from an other Fanfiction

_* Fuck you, you broke my nose _

_** Weasley, you'll pay for that_

_*** You all are my witnesses _

_****"Are you crazy? My nose will be not fixed by a barmaid."_

_***** And if, my girlfriend can confirm it."  
_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Sorry, no a beta-Reader in sight_**

* * *

Just when Professor McGonagall moistened her finger, to scroll to the next page, she was startled by a groan. Her finger mid air, she peered over the rim of her glasses at her former students, who paced up and down the floor. Every few seconds he glanced down at a card (most likely a kind of flash card), which he gripped so hard, that his knuckles were white.

From time to time, he stopped, but only, to tug on his shirt collar. It seemed, that he was at the point of collapse – so high time, to interfere. She closed her book with a snap and cleared her throat.

Her "Ronald!" was unsuccessful. Only a loud "Ronald Billius Weasley!" scored the desired effect. Confused, he glanced up and as their eyes met, Minerva patted invitingly on the seat beside her.

He put the card in his suit pocket and plopped with a sigh down on the chair.

"You need to calm down!" She rebuked him sternly.

"I'm calm!" Ron disagreed vehemently.

Minerva pointed with the tip of her walking stick at his leg, with which he tapped on the floor.

"Oh!" Blushing, he crossed his legs and folded his arms over his chest. "Why does it take so long?" He growled and stared gloomily, jaw tightly locked and shoulders tensed, at the door to the chamber.

Shaking her head, Minerva reached into her bag, pulled out a vacuum flask and filled a plastic cup with a hot liquid. She handed him the cup: "Here, that calms the nerves!"

"Tea?", croaked Ron, a little suspicious.

She smiled "Amongst other things." He lifted the cup to his nose and sniffed.

"I can assure you, that Poppy would never brew anything undrinkable!" She scolded.

Ron shuddered: "Yeah, I have very fond memories of her poisons!". Nonetheless, he sipped slowly from the cup.

"Don't be so shy." She nudged him with the flask and he finally took a big gulp. His eyes widened in surprise, then he began to cough: "Holy...sh..cannoli!"

"Excellent, don't you think?"

He nodded with watery eyes and affirmed hoarsely: "Indeed, excellent!"

"Another cup?"

Horrified, he shook his head and handed her the empty cup back.

Suddenly someone called out her name. As she turned her head, she was pleased to see, that Harry Potter rushed towards them.

"Harry, my boy, how are you?" Minerva started to get up, but Harry waved her off: "Please, Minerva, don't get up. I'm just here, to wish you good luck! And to remind Ron…"

As he turned to his friend, his eyes went wide in surprise.

Ron rubbed his neck sheepishly: "I look like a dandy, huh?"

Harry grinned: "I cannot disagree."

Ron groaned and buried his head in his hands.

After an exchange of glances with Minerva McGonagall, whose expressed her annoyance at his insensitive remark, he added quickly: "But in a good way."

His friend straightened up and asked hopefully: "Really?"

Harry drew with his finger a cross on his chest: "I cross my heart!"

And in fact, Audrey and Fleur have done a good job. This young wizard, with short hair and trimmed beard, was no comparison to the Ronald Weasley from the last few weeks. And the black suit with a dark blue shirt completed his well-groomed appearance.

He gave Ron an encouraging pat on the shoulder: "You'll be all right!. Unless, you cannot control yourself.." He stopped and looked at him meaningfully. – Ron furrowed his brow: "What are you rabbiting about?" – Harry lowered his voice: "The members of the Council don't like wizards, who swear like a trooper." – Ron wiped Harry's hand from his shoulder: "Shut …ooh!" Looking at the opening door, Ron's face color changed within seconds from white to green.

* * *

The Chamber was relatively small, on either side were green benches, occupied by the members of the Council. The table, where he and Minvera has been placed, was situated in the center of the room. No wonder, that Ron feels trapped. Enviously, he glanced at Minerva, who sat calm and relaxed in her chair.

As Minister Shacklebolt, whose seat was located at the north end of the Chamber, gave him an encouraging nod – it was time. Ron stood up and strode with shaky legs

to the lectern. He moved behind the lectern and put his notes in front of him.

"Minister Shacklebolt, Sirs and Madams!" Suddenly aware of the crowd, that listened to him, he got a sinking feeling in his stomach. Horrified, he noticed, that the letters of his notes began to blur. His heart pounded against his ribs and he blinked. 'Come on, Ron, relax your shoulders, loosen up your neck and, for heaven's sake, breathe!',

and reminded himself. As he looked again down at the notes, were these to his relief readable again. After a slow, deep breath, he continued in a steady voice: "Professor McGonagall and I are here, to talk to you about…."

"…. History shows us, that a keep quiet-strategy, is the wrong way." Ron glanced up from his notes: "We should no longer pretend, that Voldemort's atrocities never happened. Only if we answer the questions of the present and future generations openly and honestly, we avoid a new reign of terror like the ones of the Dark Lord. Thank you all for your attention."

Relieved, Ron went back to his seat, where he wiped his sweaty palms at his trousers. Minister Shacklebolt approached the lectern: "I think, we have to thank you, Auror Weasely, for your detailed explanations." He leaned against the lectern and looked around: "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. Professor McGonagall and Auror Weasley would be happy to answer them."

Minerva tilted her head in a regal manner: "With pleasure!"

A wizard called from the top bench: "Don't you think, that the education is the task of the parents?"

Minerva stopped Ron's reply by squeezing his arm: "Perhaps you remember, Aelfric, that an adolescent wizard or witch spends more time at school than at home – one of the most important periods of their life, I must add!"

Another wizard could not resist, to remark mockingly: "According to my knowledge, Lord Voldemort is dead as a door-nail. It is a safe bet, that the problem will resolve itself in the near future and there is no reason, to upset the apple cart."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Ron replied doubtfully.

"You impugn, that the number of his henchmen decreases from day to day? You're an Auror, aren't you?"

Ron nodded: "I'm!"

"Yet you do not believe, that soon Voldemort's followers and the Death Eaters are history, like himself?" asked the wizard amazed.

Ron opened his mouth to answer him, but someone was faster than him.

"Everyone thought this also, after the first war. And as we now know, his clout remained unbroken. It is, as always, we learn from history, that we do not learn from history!", hissed a female voice from the opposite side. Ron craned his neck, but could not catch the sight of a certain bushy-brown head among the present wizards and witches in the Chamber.

Minerva leaned over and whispered to Ron: "A famous Muggle quote, don't you think!"

Quickly, Ron jerked his head around. He looked straight ahead and acted, as if he did not notice her knowing glance.

"Actually, I would like Auror Weasley's opinion about this!", demanded the Wizard.

Ron cleared his throat, before he spoke up: "Sure, after the end of the war, a large part of the Death Eaters could be captured."

"Like I said!" came the satisfied response.

"Unfortunately, we observe, that interest in black magic grows, especially in the age groups under 20, some worshippers of this magic are even younger than 17."

"I'm certainly not wrong, when I say most of them are Slytherin's!" expressed another wizard spiteful.

Indignantly, Minerva knocked with her walking stick on the floor: "Really, Basil!"

Ron covered his mouth with a hand, to hide his snigger.

Regrettably, the general mutterings in the chamber revealed, that Basil was not alone in this view. As Minerva's expression turned into a scowl, Ron stepped in: "It'll probably surprise you, but you're dead wrong with this supposition."

He leaned forward: "One of those we chased, was a former Ravenclaw, who was just an ordinary wizard. Tim, that was his name, wanted to be a healer. And up to his 5th year everything seemed to be going well, he was even the best student of his year. But, all of a sudden… bang!" He slammed his fist on the table, and not only Minerva flinched, startled.

Undeterred, Ron continued: "His grades dropped, he started failing all of his classes and withdrew from his friends. His parents, by the way, both of whom had an active role in the first war, could not explain, why he turned to the dark side."

"He was not interrogated, when he was caught?"

Ron clenched his jaw and swallowed: "I killed him, before we could question him."

The Chamber became quiet, until the treasurer of the Ministry broke the silence: "All well and good, I understand your motivations. But I have, um, we've already put a lot of Galleons in the reconstruction of Hogwarts and I…."

"7.922 Galleons and 4 Sickles!" Ron interrupted him.

"Sorry?"

"7.922 Galleons and 4 Sickles cost one prisoner of Azkaban in the year, which are 78 Galleons less, than we need for this project."

"That's a naive fallacy, don't you think!"

"It's never about the people, but always about the money." Prudently, Ron kept these thoughts to himself and replied instead: "Even though, we should not take it for granted, that the total number of crimes will drop to 0 %, but we are expecting, an appreciable decrease. With the consequence, that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement will save money."

The treasurer turned to his undersecretary and whispered something to him. Ron thanked his lucky stars for Hermione's secretary and her research.

As no further questions were thrown into the room, Minerva propped her chin on her walking stick and allowed herself a slight smile.

* * *

He'd stood there, completely relaxed, his suit jacket under his arm, shirt sleeves rolled up. A smile played on his lips, as he listened to his brother.

Hermione took in and let out a long, deep breath, before she finally gathered up her courage and approached the group.

It was, as if Ron felt her presence, he turned his head toward her and looked directly into her eyes. Hermione gave him a warm smile and his just now cold look vanished.

"You were incredible!", she blurted out. Her eyes darted to Minerva and she corrected herself sheepish: "I mean, of course, you **both."**

In the typical Ron-Manner, he blushed and rubbed his neck: "That was all Minerva!"

"Papalapap, Ronald!" Minerva butted in and gave him a stern gaze, "Finally, you had the idea for this project."

He shook his head: "I couldn't have done it without you and the help of the other."

As Ron and his former teacher began to argue, in a humorous way, who earned the acclaim, Hermione seized the moment. She closed the distance between them with one firm step and hugged him. Ron, who was caught unawares, stiffened.

"You can proud of you!" She rose to her tiptoes and whispered in his ear: "As I am!"

Heart hammering, she twisted her head slightly, but since her husband turned away his head, her kiss ended up, instead on his cheek, on his ear.

Fighting back tears, Hermone loosened her hold on him and settled back on her feet.

Minerva and Percy, who stood a few steps away, looked at one another, Hermione could imagine, what the two were thinking.

She stepped back and forced herself to smile: "As I said, well done."

The strained silence was broken by Percy's discreet cough: "Unfortunately, I gotta go. Professor McGonagall, hopefully, I see you soon." He nodded to Hermione and hurried away.

Hermione, who couldn't bear, to look at her husband, glanced down at her wristwatch and wrinkled her forehead: "Well, the same goes for me." She waved: "See you, Minerva, Ron." And disappeared in quick steps around the corner.

"Hermione" Minveras voice called.

Frozen, Hermione stopped up.

"Can I have a word with you?"

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye, before she turned around. Patiently, she waited, until Minerva was in front of her.

Minerva leaned both hands on the handle of her walking stick: "Don't give up, he will come around!"

Hermione's false smile vanished and her shoulders sagged: "Everyone promises me that…"

"And will be proved right in the end!" Minerva replied firmly.

Hermione leaned against the wall: "To be honest, Minerva, I'm starting to lose hope."

Minerva squeezed her arm: "I may not be an expert in matters of the heart, but I know Ronald."

Hermione smiled a little: "How you can you be so sure?"

"Quite simply, I have complete confidence in him."

* * *

Harry peered over the edge of Ron's office cell: "Any news?"

Ron stretched his hands over his head and yawned widely: "Are you kidding? We're talking about..."

"Bureaucrats!", said both simultaneously and grinned at each other.

"No appointment with Elaine today?" Harry asked curiously.

His friend propped his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand: "Called off!"

"Aha!" – "Yeah!" – "Well, then, I'll leave you alone." Harry lifted a daily newspaper up and wiggled his eyebrows: "I have a date."

All at once, Ron's tiredness was blown away: "Hang on, Harry! Is that the latest edition?" Before Harry could even utter a peep, this newspaper was flying directly into Ron's waiting hand.

With open mouth, Harry watched, how his friend rummaged through his newspaper.

"Sometimes I hate magic."

"I'm only interested in the part about rentals. And here it is." He removed the desired part and returned the remaining pages to Harry.

Harry stared at him speechless.

Of course, Ron misunderstood the silence of his friend: "Don't worry, mate, you have the sports section."

"Y..you are looking for a flat?" Harry stuttered.

Ron hummed.

"But why?"

"I'm sick of living in the Three Broomsticks. Moreover, don't you think, it is time, that I stand on my own feet? Bloody hell, Harry, I'm 24 years old and don't even know, how much is the rent for a one bedroom."

Harry smiled weakly: "Don't forget, then you're on your own, also with the cooking, cleaning, and finance."

Ron smirked: "Who do you think, had to cook. Hermione can't even boil water. Unlike me, who is..." He puffed himself up: "a real master chef."

"Modesty is a virtue, but it won't get you far, Master Chef Ron." He smiled mischievously: "Should I ask your mother, if she can teach you beforehand some of the most important household spells?"

Terrified, Ron cried in a high voice: "Don't you dare!"

Harry waved at him with the tattered newspaper, turned around and began to whistle.

* * *

Sighing, Hermione regarded her overfilled desk. Again a long evening in the office. On the spur of the moment, she stuck out her tongue towards the stack with the unfinished paperwork.

"Harrumph." With the discrete throat clearing, her secretary, who stood suddenly in the doorway, tried to catch her attention.

Embarrassed by her childish behavior, Hermione flushed.

Mrs. Graham smiled full of sympathy: "No end in sight?"

Her boss nodded and asked wearily: "Please, don't tell me, there's more papers to sign."

"Thankfully, no. But someone from the press would like to speak to you!"

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose: "Please, Mrs. Graham, would you be kind enough to put him off."

"Of course, but it is not he, it's Mrs…"

"Please, not so formal, call me Rita!" exclaimed the female journalist cheerful and pushed past Mrs. Graham, "Madam Undersecretary and I are old, as they say, acquaintances, ..., isn't that so?"

Baffled, Hermione and her secretary observed as if frozen, how Rita Skeeter brazenly dropped her purse on the desk and slipped off her gloves. Subsequently, she faced Mrs. Grahm and waved with the gloves: "I think, my dear, you can leave us alone now."

"I don't think so!", cried Hilda outraged, her eyes blazing dangerously.

Unimpressed, Rita sat down on the chair and turned to Hermione: "Trust me, it is in your interest, if you send your secretary out, so we can talk in private." She called over her shoulders: "No offense, my dear!"

Hermione jumped up, her palms planted on the desk, and hissed: "Get up, Skeeter, and leave, before I count to three."

"If you insist, I'll go, of course!" She picked up her purse from the desk: "But first I want to show you something!" She fished an envelope out of her pocket and pushed it over the desk to Hermione.

Hermione narrowed her eyes: "What is that?"

Rita examined her fingernails: "Have a look!"

Reluctantly, Hermione opened slowly the envelope. Her nemesis leaned back comfortably in her chair and steepled her fingers. Eagerly, she gave Hermione a look over the rim of her glasses and smiled: "Come on, dear, don't be shy!"

Hermione pulled out a photo and examined it. She paled and sank into her chair.

Worried, her secretary moved a step closer to the desk: "Is everything okay? Should I call the security service?"

A visibly shocked Hermione looked up from the photo and croaked: "Please, Mrs. Graham, leave us alone."

When Mrs. Graham did not move, she added: "Please!"

Her secretary nodded and left the office, but not without throwing a dirty look towards Rita Skeeter.

Hermione took a long, slow breath and asked through gritted teeth: "Where did you get these?"

Rita waved: "Someone sent me this envelope – anonymously, of course!"

"Of course!", Hermione repeated bitterly

"You can certainly imagine, how thrilled I was, when I received these compromising photos. It was too good to be true, our prim and proper Mrs. Granger-Weasley has an affair."

"I don't have an affair."

Rita pursed her lips: "Wow, it's already over?" She lifted an eyebrow: "You did not changed much." She shrugged her shoulders: "Whatever, my readership does not care about the status quo of the affair, they are only interested, who has betrayed whom. Guess what, all the better, when it's someone like you, who sit on a high horse."

Hermione swallowed hard and whispered: "That is what you are here for, right, to savor your victory?"

All signs of arrogance disappeared. "I'm here because, I couldn't help but notice, that on one of the photos Whitaker looks directly at the camera, which allows only one conclusion…"

"He knew, that someone shot photos!". complete Hermione and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Yeah, it's safe to assume, that he is behind it. You can put yourself lucky, that the relationship between my niece and your lover ended not very nicely, to say the least, and I have a score to settle with him. No way, that I'm playing into his hands!"

Hermione straightened herself: "What do you mean?"

"I mean, blood is thicker than water, or in this case, as business, and I will not publish the photos." Lost in thought, she muttered to herself: "Although it is a real shame, to let slip away such an opportunity." With a sigh, Rita got up and pointed to the envelope: "Now, it lies in your hands, what to do with them."

At the door, she turned around again: "One more thing, Madam Undersecretary, bring your personal life in order. I would not have hesitated, if you fooled around with another guy. Next time, I'm not that stupid, do we understand each other?!"

"I don't fool around, not with him or any other man." Hermione angrily disagreed.

Rita laughed out loud: "The photos speak a different language, have a look at the other." She waved her gloves and called out: "Cherrio!"

Hermione took the envelope into her trembling hands and pulled out the next photo.

* * *

Ginny stepped out of the Hermione's fireplace. Without making the effort, to wipe the ashes of her clothes, she called out immediately: "Hermione, are you there?"

"Merlin, Ginny, do you have to shout like that?" complained Hermione, who came into the room.

Ginny plopped down on the chair: "You will not believe, what my stupid brother intends to do!"

Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso and smiled wearily: "Do I really want to hear it?"

"What?"

"Nothing." Hermione waved: "Go on and spill the beans!"

Ginny glanced searchingly at her sister-in-law, who looked awful with dark circles, due to the lack of sleep, under her red-rimmed eyes. She pointed to the couch and asked gently: "Maybe is better that you also sit down!"

With a sigh, Hermione followed her request.

"Your husband told Harry, that he is looking for his own flat, and now brace yourself and listen to this! He does that because of…"She make an air quote: "self-discovery"." She laughed: "I wonder, where he picked this up!"

Hermione massaged her temple and said nothing.

Ginny's smile faded and she studied her thoughtfully friend: "Earth to Hermione? Did you hear me?"

Her sister-in-law sighed: "Loud and clear!" She bit her lips and looked aside: "Maybe I should follow suit."

"Excuse me?"

Hermione waved her hand around the room: "The flat houses to many memories."

"Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger? The Hermione I know, is as a fighter!"

Hermione jumped up and paced around the room: "Let's face it, Ginny, I'm fighting a lost cause. Your brother starts to move on and there is no reasonable chance, that he will forgive me. For me, all that remains is my career." She laughed bitterly and clasped her hand to her forehead: "Oh, I forgot, which is also on the brink."

Ginny's eyes widened shocked: "Why is your career on the brink?"

Her friend stopped her pacing and called wearily: "Accio envelope!"

A few minutes later, Ginny pulled out a photo from the envelope and examined it curiously. She pointed a finger at the man in the photo: "I suppose, this is…"

"David Whitaker, yeah."

"Not bad." – Hermione grimaced. – "Oops, that sounded wrong, I meant, of course, it's not so bad, what you see in the picture. Finally, you only see a man in front of a door, knocking and waiting!"

Hermione nodded her chin towards the envelope: "There are more."

"All right then, let's see. The asshole again, ooh, crap, Hermione." Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. In this photo, it was clearly her sister-in-law, who poked her head furtively outside the room door. Ginny glanced up and inquired her friend timidly: "It isn't going to get any worse, or?"

Her sister-in-law bit her lips and said nothing.

The next photo showed, how a smug David Whitaker left Hermione's hotelroom. His hair, which had been neatly combed, was now disheveled.

Speechless, Ginny studied the picture, she could literally feel, the anger rising in her.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked timidly.

Gritting her teeth, Ginny looked up and snapped: "Didn't you say, there's nothing going on between you and him?"

Shocked by her outburst, Hermione stared at her.

"You know, to me, it looks like as if he just came from a quick encounter with his lover!" She spat.

"Ginny, there was nothing!" Hermione looked at her imploringly.

Ginny's face hardened: "Nothing is probably an understatement, you kissed, for merlin's sake!" Tears welled up in her eyes and she threw the photos on the table: "How could you do that to my brother?"

Hermione's eyes darkened and she shouted: "What you want to hear, Ginny? That I made a mistake? For this, I don't need you, I know it myself!" Breathing heavily, she shut her eyes for a moment. "Every morning reminds me the empty side of the bed at the probably biggest mistake of my life." Her voice trailed off into a whisper, "And that for the rest of my life!"

* * *

In a bad mood, David stepped out of the elevator, with absolutely no interest in small talk. Unfortunately, on his way to his own office, he passed the outer office of the 'Head of the Department of Magical Law'.

As the secretary of his boss, Mrs. Tanner, chirped: "Mr. Whitaker!", he would have liked to spin round on his heel. She beckoned him closer and he stopped at her desk.

"The boss wants to see you urgently!" She leaned forward and whispered: "What you have done, I've never seen him so furious as today."

Before David could ask, what had happened, stormed the Head out of his office and cried impatiently: "Maggie, did you finally…" When he saw David, he stopped in his tracks and barked: "Whitakter, my office, now!"

Perfectly poised and sure of himself, David winked at Mrs. Tanner and followed his boss in his office.

"Shut the door and get closer!" ordered the Head and cast a silencio spell on the door.

"Sir, what happened?" Reluctantly, David approached the desk, on which photos were distributed, and sat down on the chair.

The Head pushed the photos together and threw them into the lap of David. "Do you know something about this shit?" he hissed with barely suppressed rage.

David glanced down at the photos down and gasped: "What the hell?" Shit, where he gets these photos.

"I'm waiting!"

He glanced up and lied: "Of course not, Sir, I see these for the first time." He ran his tongue over his lips: "If I may ask, Sir, where did you get these?"

"My Undersecretary received this from a secret source." He sat down on the corner of his desk: "Know what's funny? She is firmly convinced, that you want to discredit her thereby."

David snorted: "This is ridiculous, Sir, I broke up with her and now she seeks revenge." He pointed to his nose: "Here is the proof. When I put an end on to our affair, she embarked upon me like a Berserker and broke my nose"

The Head kept a straight face: "To be honest, Whitaker, I never liked you, and now it seems, for a good reason."

David's jaw clenched in anger and he clutched the photos so tight, that the edges crumpled.

"Unfortunately, I still have no evidence for Mrs. Granger-Wesleys theory. But if it turns out, that you had something to do with it, then I swear to merlin, your crooked nose will be least of your concerns."

He held out his hand: "And now, give me the pictures back, so I can keep these safe."

* * *

Frowning, Ginny observed the scene before her.

Her brother sat with a young, good-looking, woman around a table. Both seemed to have a good time, at least judging by their laughter.

As she approached the table, she picked up a few snippets of conversation.

Ron rubbed his chin: "Come to think about it, maybe I'll get a dog!"

"So, pets allowed?" inquired the unknown woman.

Her brother grumbled: "If it were up to me, dogs, but no cats allowed!"

"I'll see, what I can do!" The woman laughed melodically.

Ginny coughed, to draw attention to herself, and two pairs of eyes turned to her. She smiled and asked exaggerated courteously: "Ron, can I talk to you?" – She gave his female companion a meaningful look: "And if possible, alone!"

Upset by her disorder, Ron growled: "Then you'll just have to wait, Ginny, until we're done!"

The other female patted Ron's arm: "That's okay, Ron, I have to go anyway!" She rose up from the chair and gathered her notes: "I'll contact you as soon as I've found suitable properties."

Ron stood also up, grabbed her coat and asked politely, naturally not, without to blush: "May I?" Smiling, she nodded gratefully and Ron helped her into the coat.

Ginny stared at him in pure disbelief. After the stranger was gone, Ginny asked him sweetly: "Do I want to know, who this ravishing beauty was?" Ron, unwilling to respond to these snappy remarks, walked up the stairs, closely followed by his sister.

Who, not pleased with his silence, urged an answer from him: "If you have not understood the hint, I'm curious, who…

Without stopping, Ron turned his head and snapped: "That's none of your damn business."

In a huff, murmured Ginny: "Merlin, I can ask you a question, can't I. Unless this woman is.."

"Her name is Carol Turner and she helps me with the flat-hunting. Happy?" Ron hissed and opened door to his room.

She entered the room after him: "You can call off this flat-hunting, and Mrs. Sunshine, right away, since you will return to….." Cringing, she paused and gasped: "Oh my…..it looks like a pigsty in here."

Ron shot her a dark look.

She shrugged her shoulders in a "does not matter" gesture and flicked her wand – observed by her bewildered brother.

When his clothes flew across the room, he asked finally: "Bloody hell, Ginny, what are you doing?"

"As you see, I'm packing!"

"Stop it!" He placed himself in her way: "Outright!"

She tried to push him out of the way: "Get out the way!"

"Nope!"

She put her hands on her hips and threatened him: "Ron, I will not hesitate to use the Bat-Bogey Hex."

"You don't dare."

Huh, flickered something like fear in his eyes!? She narrowed her eyes and warned him: "Do you want to take a chance?" No sooner, she uttered the last word, she stood wandless before him.

He tucked her wand in his pocket: "From time to time, it has its advantages to be an Auror." He folded his arms over his chest: "Now tell me. What is this about?"

She flopped down on the bed and rested her head in her hand: "You must return to your wife and if possible, before the Wizarding World get wind of the rumour, you know, the gossip factory is working overtime. We don't want them to think, there is any truth in this. I bet, the bastard leaked the photos to Mrs. Horrible, although, this time we have to be grateful to her…."

"Pipe down!", shouted Ron. He turned the chair round, straddled it and faced her: ""Honestly, Ginny, I don't have the foggiest idea, what you're talking about."

"There are photos!"

Ron froze: "What kind of photos?"

"From Hermione's evening, in Stockholm." She whispered and gave him a pitying glance: "On a photo you see, how Hermione lets the asshole into her hotel room."

Except, that his hands gripped the back rest, he showed no reaction.

– "She is in a desperate state, because these photos can harm her career."

"Aha! Therefore, the wind blows. My wife's career is jeopardized and now I have to play the loving husband, am I right?"

Surprised by his calm behavior, she asked hesitantly: "Ron, you're not going to sit back and do nothing, right?!"

"Ginny, what do you want from me? Should I solve her problems, even though, it's all her own fault? We are not a teenager anymore, Ginny. When she invited him to her bloody room, she doesn't care, that she is married, just as, when she kissed him!"

"Ron, I… " Ginny runs out of words.

"No, Ginny, that's my final word. And I ask you, stay out of it too!", he begged her.

Ginny sighed and glanced aside: "I can't, You know very well, that Hermione is my best friend!"

* * *

With a deep sigh, Hermione sat down on the garden bench and glanced around her mother's garden.

She breathed in the crisp, clear air, while the breeze ruffled her hair. As she began to shiver, she zipped the jacket up under her chin, snuggled into it a little more, and tucked her hands in the jacket pockets. Despite the cold, it felt good to be outside.

She could hardly remember, when she perceived so conscious the changing colors of the leaves. Perhaps it's actually not such a bad thing, that she will soon have plenty of time, to enjoy her favorite season to the fullest. Tears welled up in her eyes, at the reason for her free time.

As she heard the distinctive crunching of leaves behind her, she quickly wiped with the back of her hand the tears from her cheeks. She turned her head and put a forced smile on her face: "Dad, I swear…" but, instead of the familiar form of her father, stood none other than her husband beside the bench.

He pointed to the empty seat: "May I?"

Dumbfounded, she could only nod. As soon as he was seated, he stretched out his long legs in front of him and inhaled deeply. Like her, he loved the autumn, followed closely by the Ronald's fifth season: Christmas.

Hermione glanced down at her lap and asked timidly: "You've heard about it?"

"They call our gossiper Ginny not for nothing Ginny Skeeter", he tried to joke.

She swallowed and her eyes, once again, filled with tears: "It was anyway only a matter of time!"

He looked at her from the side and inquired softly: "And how do you feel?"

She took a shaky breath: "What do you think? My husband, looking for a flat, prepared himself for a life without me." She felt, how his body tensed at her words, and for a brief moment, she hoped, that Harry had misunderstood something. But when he didn't deny the flat hunting, she went on: "And now, where my career is going straight down the drain – I feel really lousy, to say the least."

He was silent for a moment, then he nudged her with his shoulder: "Who is now the alarmist? You've still got a brilliant career in front of you."

Her response was a resigned shrug of the shoulders: "I should draw the consequences of this scandal and announce my resignation, before I'm forced to do!"

He furrowed his brow: "Scandal?" – She sniffed, her shoulder slumped. – "Don't exaggerate, Hermio…"

She raised her voice: "You think, I'm exaggerating? Does the headline' Hermione Weasley's extramarital affair' ring any bells?"

"There was and never will be such a headlining!", he replied convinced.

"How do you know for sure? All it takes is, that someone from the hotel staff can't keep the mouth shut or more photos show up."

"And if? The headline of today, is the headline of tomorrow! And Whitaker won't dare to tell anything."

Sighing, she confessed: "My boss was not exactly delighted, I have the feeling, that he is profoundly disappointed in me!"

There was not the faintest trace of gloating on his face "I think, it is a good sign, that he does not ask for your resignation or withdrawal."

"Not yet!"

He furrowed his brow in an expression of disapproval "Do not you see? If you give up, then Whitaker has achieved his goal, then he has won!" – Thoughtfully, she glanced at her husband. – "Somewhere hidden, is the Hermione Granger, who punched Malfoy. By the way.." He winked at her: "I swear, right then, I fell in love with you."

A hint of a smile touching her lips: "You are right!" She jutted her chin forward and pushed her shoulders back: "The only career, which should finished, is David's!"

"That's spirit!" He laughed, which did not reach his eyes. _David! _

She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her nose.

'Talking about nose' – he scratched his chin: "I heard, you broke his nose."

Pugnaciously, her eyes flashed and she clenched her fist: "He can be happy, that it was only his nose."

To hide his smirk, Ron cupped his hands and blew into them.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you!"

"No problem!" He smiled.

Both looked at each other in silence, until Ron put his hands flat on the thighs: "So, unfortunately, I have to go.."

Crestfallen, Hermione bit on the lip and nodded.

He got up and pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets. Briefly, he gazed over Hermione's head to the house of his parents in law , before he glanced down at her: "I suppose, I will see you on Thursday?!".

Her eyes widened: "I…I thought…. You are coming to the meeting?"

"Sure, I have nothing else to do and the sports fanatic meet up again until spring, so I can also come to the meeting. If it's okay with you, I mean.."

She nodded eagerly: "Of course! Although, I should probably warn you…"

He looked at her questioningly.

"The current theme is the relationship with our parents or in-laws, how they affect our relationship."

He groaned out: "You are joking."

"Nope!" She chuckled.

Grumbling, he turned and walked away.

She listened to his slowly faded steps and whispered: "I love you. I love you very much, Ronald Weasley!"

* * *

Jean peered so intensely out of the kitchen window, that she didn't even notice her husband, who stood beside her. He also stared into the garden, but actually without knowing why. Finally, he asked curiously: "Is that stupid cat of our neighbors again in our garden?"

His wife flinched and cluchted her heart: "My god, Peter, do you have to sneak up like that?"

Her husband grinned: "It is not my fault. You would not notice me, even if I had made a tap dance."

She lifted an eyebrow: "And I learn only now, that you can tap-dance. Confess, my husband, dear, have you been keeping other mysteries from me?"

"Very funny. Tell me better, what's going on outside."

She bit her lip and confessed: "Our daughter is in the garden."

Her husband's eyes lit up with delight and he turned to the door, which lead in the garden.

Jean's eyes widened in alarm and she called: "No step further, darling, you stay here with me!"

He stopped, but pouted: "Why I am not allowed to greet my little girl?"

"Ron is with her, that is why!"

"Ooh?" He twisted his lip into an odd expression, but suddenly the penny dropped: "Ooh!"

They both stared into the garden. Peter sighed: "I would now like to fly on the wall"

"Me too!" Jean admitted with a sigh.

Suddenly, her husband grinned: "Sweety, an idea strikes me! Do you remember George's gift to my last birthday?"

His impish grin spelled downright anger and she replied hesitantly: "Yeah, a box of odds and ends from his shop."

He tut-tutted: "Jean, this isn't odds and ends. In any case, among them is a bug, of course, not a bug, more like an ear." In his head, the plan has already taken shape: "If I attach it to my fishing rod, I could bring the ear closer to the two."

As he was about to go, likely to fetch the thing, she held him by the sleeve and chided: "You will not do such a thing, Darling!"

Crestfallen, he grumbled: "You're a real spoilsport."

Jean looked outside again and shrieked: "Anyway, it's too late, Ron comes, act natural!" She jumped to the sink and grabbed the kettle, while her husband run around like a headless chicken. Just as the door opened, he plopped down on a kitchen chair and faced his wife: "And then I said, her son needs a dental brace.."

Ron knocked at the door frame: "Hey!"

Peter faced him, feigned surprise: "Oh, Ron, I didn't know, that you are here."

Jean lifted the kettle: "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Or a game of chess?" offered his father-in, not entirely altruistic.

Ron glanced down at his wristwatch and furrowed his brow: "Maybe some other time. For now, I gotta go."

Jean approached him and stroked his arm "You promise?"

Her son-in-law smiled, nodding: "I promise!"

When he wanted to turn around, his mother-in-law stopped him: "Not so fast, my dear, let's put wood behind the arrow. How does warm apple pie sound, let's say, on next Sunday?"

Her son-in-law beamed and rubbed his stomach: "Warm apple pie, hmm, I'll be there!"

* * *

Ron straightened his tie one last time, but before he could raise his hand to knock, the door opened already.

His date folded her arms and greeted him sternly: "Just in time, Mr. Weasley!"

Ron held out his arms with a broad smile: "Is a Side-Along Apparition acceptable?"

Shaking her head, she linked her arm with him: "Let's go!"

He gave her a lopsided grin: "I'm flattered, that you put your life in my hands." - She rolled her eyes, but her mouth twitched with amusement - "Then it is better, if I don't tell you, what happened to me during my first apparition exam."

"You know what, you do not tell me about your exam and in return, I tell you nothing of the last wizard, who has been getting on my nerves."

"Merlin, why I always ended up with bossy witches." Ron joked and with a loud crack both disappea


	7. Chapter 7

If Elaine was surprised, that Ron again take part in the meeting, she did not show it - much to Ron's relief: "Today we talk about a very important issue in a relationship, namely the role of parents respectively the in-laws."

Ron grimaced and murmured softly: "Hurray!"

"The influence our parents are really interesting and important, Ron." Elaine winked: "Take, for example, the choice of partner, which is, according to a Muggle-Study, influenced by our parents. Unconsciously, the witch prefers a wizard, who is like her father, while the wizard favors a witch, who is as his mother."

Lost in thought, Ron nodded.

Elaine smiled: "You can tell, Ron?"

He sighed overly dramatically: "This is why Luna's peacefulness stood no chance against Hermione's bossiness. "

His wife rolled her eyes: "Then I must probably be grateful for your mother bossy character!"

The couple exchanged glances and collapsed into laughter, while Elaine watched the playful banter between the two with delight.

After the laughter had subsided, asked their marriage counselor with interest: "Hermione, what can you say about your relationship with your parents or parents-in-law?"

Without hesitation, came the reply: "Actually, I cannot complain, I have an affectionate relationship with my parents and my in-laws are like second parents to me."

Elaine faced Ron, who answered her unspoken question with a hasty: "Likewise!"

Hermione jerked her head and stared at him.

Ron stared back and mouthed: "What?"

She gave him a stern look and blurted out: "You cannot be serious!'" Shit, he should have known, so easily, he doesn't get away.

Elaine's eyebrow rose and she inquired: "Apparently, Hermione do not share your view on this matter?".

He shot an annoyed glance towards his wife, which she studiously ignored, and turned to Elaine: "I get along very well with my parents-in-laws!"

"And what about your relationship with your parents?"

"I'm on very good terms with my father, unfortunately, we aren't not as close, as in my childhood. But, I guess, that's normal, when you are growing up. My mother and I…..". He paused briefly and admitted grudgingly: "We are a different story!".

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, choosing his next words thoughtfully: "Our connection is, to say the least, difficult."

Elaine was silent for a moment, before she asked the next question: "Did the separation affected your relationship with your parents or parents-in-law?".

"My parents are very sad about the current situation, but otherwise, they don't interfere with my life.". Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and confessed: "And, to tell the truth, presently, I avoid encounters with my parents-in-laws.".

"Lucky me, I have to deal with Molly Weasley all by myself!". Ron remarked ironically. "Who, by the way, does not believe in marriage counseling."

"My mother-in-law is a little old-fashioned!". Hermione interjected explanatory.

Ron laughed without humor: "A little?".

"Your parents did not support you?"

"Let's put it this way, in my mother's eyes, Hermione cannot do anything wrong and I should thank the lucky stars, that a witch like her, puts up with me. She is also firmly convinced, that I'm the guilty one at our separation. And my father knows better, than to contradict my mother."

"I'm sorry!" Hermione muttered suddenly, sniveling.

Perplexed, Ron faced her: "For what? That's my mum take her annoyance out on me?". He snorted: "This is hardly something new.".

Misty-eyed, she swallowed: "I'm to blame for this whole dilemma and that the things gotten worse between you two!"

He moved closer and nudged her with his shoulder: "You know what they say. What does not kill me, makes me stronger."

Hermione hiccupped: "Your mother – hic – is wrong. I'm – hic – the lucky – hic – one!"

"Naah! I really hit the jackpot, take a look at your mother, fifty years and still sex…, I mean, beautiful. You, on the other hand, can expect in a few years a husband with very thin hair or none at all."

Surprised, that Ron – consciously or unconsciously – thought again of a shared future with Hermione, Elaine looked up from her notepad.

Whether Hermione had also noticed this, is anyone's guess. If so, she hid it definitely good.

Right now, she was obviously trying, to poke fun at him, by asking him, apparently outraged: "Did you just say – hic, that – you find – hic – my mother sexy – hic - hic?" Although, her teasing was a little marred by her still existing hiccups, Elaine could not suppress a chuckle.

Embarrassed, Ron rubbed his neck: "Huh, for a woman of her age, you know…".

Hermione raised her eyebrows and folded her arms over her chest.

Blushing, her husband stuttered: "Not, that I think, your mother is old…"

Elaine, full of compassion for the writhing Ron's, stepped into the breach and cleared her throat: "Speaking of mothers. Ron, I have a small task for you. Try to talk with your mother. Make it clear to her, that you will not tolerate any unauthorized interference in your relationship, of course, with adequate communication, friendly and respectful!".

Ron groaned: "Blo.., uh, is that really necessary?"

"It is no solution, to skirt an issue!" Elaine replied with a smile.

He faced his wife and wiggled his eyebrows: "Want to come too, Hermione?"

Wrinkling her nose, her answer came promptly: "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks."

* * *

Unusually taciturn, sat Ron during the traditional weekly family dinner between his brothers and sisters-in-laws. At the top of his to-do-list stood today the very important (and dreaded) conversation with his mother. No wonder then, that the satisfaction of his stomach was the least of his problems.

"Mollywobbles!", interrupted his father Ron's thoughts, "You've outdone yourself, as always!". No matter, how long Arthur was already married to Molly, he never forgot to praise her cooking skills.

His wife rolled her eyes, but giggled nonetheless: "Do not exaggerate, my dear!"

Ron shuddered, with the result, that Angelina leaned close to him and asked, worried: "Are you sick?".

All of a sudden, there the room became quiet, except for the cute gurgling from baby James.

"I? No! How do you get that idea?", croaked Ron.

"You are unusually quiet, green about the gills, your voice is croaky, and last but not least.." She looked pointedly at his dessert, which stood in front of him: "Your pudding is still untouched!"

While Angelina put her hand on his forehead, shifted George without a word his chair to a safe distance. Frowning, Angelina announced, staggered: "No fever!"

Clearing his throat, Ron exclaimed: "I told you, I'm fine!" Since his sister-in-law did not seem convinced, he added sheepishly: "There is so much going through my mind, you know."

George smirked: "How is that possible? After all, you do not have two brain cells to rub together!".

His sisters-law, but also Percy, called out at the same time: "George!". Whereas, Angelina leaned forward and asked kindly: "Ginny, would you do the honors?"

Observed by the snickering Harry, who covered his son's eyes with his hand, Ginny swatted George on the back of the head.

Smiling, Angelina waved at Ginny: "Many thanks!".

"My pleasure.".

George rubbed his head and muttered under his breath: "Why, for merlin's sake, are the women in my life so..?".

"Bossy? Mum's to blame!", slipped Ron out.

"What was that, young man?". His mum, clearly scandalized at his remark, narrowed her eyes.

Ron swallowed hard: "According to a Muggle-study, we men marry our mothers."

George made a gagging noise: "That's disgusting!".

Flushing, Ron quickly added: "Figuratively speaking!".

His mother leaned back in her chair and beamed, as if she had just received a big compliment.

"Therefore, Charlie is also still a bachelor!" George muttered behind his hand, fortunately for him, unnoticed by his mother.

Arthur's eyes gleamed: "I say it again and again, Muggle's are something very special."

* * *

Once, George devoured his brother's pudding, the dinner ended, much to Ron's relief, without further gaffe. To give himself a reprieve, he cleared, to the astonishment of the other, the table of the dishes voluntary and without grumbling – moreover, in the Muggle-Way.

After finishing work, he raged with James (meaning he made a fool of himself by pulling grimaces at his godson), and, finally, after de-gnoming of the yard, he opened his mouth, to ask his mother for a four-on-one-meeting.

However, just at that moment, as he plucked up his courage, Molly ordered her son George and her new daughter-in-law into the kitchen. Most likely, to have a serious word with the newlyweds for their elopement.

Sighing, Ron plopped down next to his sister on the sofa. His sister nudged him and pointed her chin toward Percy. His brother, all the faithful caring father-to-be, pushed a stool under the feet of his wife. Afterwards he covered her with a blanket, and handed her a glass of water.

"Looks familiar!", whispered Ron.

Ginny snorted: "I beg you, Harry was not half as over-cautious as Perce!".

Ron smirked: "Speaking of overprotective mother, where is your husband?".

She slapped his shoulder: "Jerk! Now, that James is teething, he only goes to sleep, when his dad sings him a lullaby."

"Aha!"

As a yelp came out of the kitchen, Ginny looked at her brother meaningful, who shook his head: "That means nothing!"

Both lapsed into silence and watched, as Percy rubbed the feet of his wife. Ginny put her head on her brother's shoulder and squeezed his arm. Ron cocked his head and looked questioningly down in her face.

She glanced up at him and smiled fondly: "You'll see, soon you'll be the one, who freak out, when Hermione wants to go to the restroom without you!"

Sighing, Ron gazed with a grim expression at the expecting parents: "Or, I share the fate of Charlie and Hagrid. Single and surrogate father of a brood of gnomes, instead of dragons and giants!" – Ginny chuckled. – Ron pouted: "Hey! You think, this funny? I'll show you, what happened, if you laugh at your big brother.". Just as he wanted to tickle his sister, she was rescued by George.

"Sorry, that I have to finish your cozy get-together, you sissies, but it's time for Quidditch." He clapped his hands together: "Come on, gets your heads out of your...".

"George!", called his mother warningly out of the kitchen.

Wincing, George mouthed "How she does it?", but shouted apologetically toward the kitchen: "Sorry, mum!"

Ginny got up from the couch and stretched: "Tell us rather, how did it go?"

George sat down on the corner of the couch and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly: "Pretty good, I would say!"

"She was pissed, I'm right!"

"Pissed did not even hit home!" He grumbled: "Hypocrite!"

"She did not hexed you? Wow, Mum becomes soft in her old days!". Ron glanced around searching: "Wait, where is Angelina?"

George grinned: "Do not worry, when I left the theater of war, she was still breathing. I think, right now, she endures a mother-daughter-in-law-speech.". He winked: "You know, you'll be sorry, if you break my son's heart, blah-blah!".

Ginny outstretched her hand and helped Ron, to stand up and asked George seemingly casual: "You know, we heard Mum's cried…"

He grinned: "Ginevra, I can tell you, there were many shrieks….."

"Come on, George, put the two of them out of their misery!", called Percy from his spot.

George examined his fingernails: "Oh, you mean Mum's cry of joy, when she learned, that her favorite son has impregnated his wife and I am not talking about Percy!"

He had barely finished the sentence, Ginny faced her brother Ron triumphantly: "I believe, you owe me 10 Galleons, Ickle Ronniekins!"

Miffed, Ron fumbled the coins from his pocket and dropped them into Ginny's outstretched palm.

Ginny clicked her tongue: "If you cannot lose, you should not bet!"

"What did I miss?" Harry inquired curiously, who, according to his bleary-eyed appearance, dozed also off by putting James to bed.

"Your wife robbed me of my last Galleons!" complained Ron and turned his empty pocket to the outside: "See!" And Ginny exclaimed happily: "You owe me a massage, my darling!"

Not disturbed, that both siblings talked at the same time, Harry slapped his brother-in-law on his shoulder: "Congratulations, George!"

"Thank you, Harry!". George looked pointedly at Ron and Ginny. "You are the only one, who gives me a proper attention, wait…" All of a sudden, he pulled a face: "Seriously guys – a massage?".

Ginny smiled dreamily: "I swear, his hands are divine.". Harry blushed and coughed: "How about a game of Quidditch?".

"Great minds think alike!" George jumped up. "Ginny and I, against Ronnie and Harry!"

"And what about me?". asked his incoming wife.

George grinned and turned to Percy: "Well, it seems you are now our 6th player.". His brother disagreed with high-pitched voice: "No way, I don't' leave my wife alone!."

Arthur sat down on the sofa and hummed: "There! There! She is not alone, because I will keep her company." He winked: "And I can say, of course, in all modesty, that I have some experience with childbirths."

Obviously irritated by Percy's overprotective demeanor, Audrey rolled her eyes: "You do not have hold my hand, you know!". Judging his skeptical face, her husband was not convinced. She patted his hand and added gently: "Our baby is not due until next month! Besides, you heard your father, I'm in good hands, Pookie-Bear."

George snickered, thereupon his wife nudged him with her elbow in the ribs: "Ouch, that hurt!". Meanwhile, Harry and Ron tried, to stifle their laugh - unfortunately in vain.

Ginny raised her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips: "Do you have a good laugh, won-won!".

Ron's smile vanished, instead, his ears glowed from embarrassment red: "Hardy har har.".

"In celebration of the day, old boy, you even are allowed, to play in the winning team, with Ginny and me!" Although, George knew, that it was no use to persuade Percy with such pledge to play along, he tried anyway.

But miracle of miracles, Percy, after a silent conversation with his wife, got up and grabbed his jacket. He gave his wife a sad look, who blew him a kiss, and followed his brother in the garden.

Ron zipped up his jacket, as a thought struck him. After this good news, his mother had to have in a good mood, so why not take advantage of the situation.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at his mate and asked in surprise: "Aren't you coming, Ron?" Absent-mindedly, Ron replied: "Sure, I'll be right there!".

"C'mon, James's nap will not last forever." Ginny pulled her husband by the coat sleeve to the outside. With a deep sigh, Ron walked towards the kitchen. At the door he stopped and listened.

"I would rather not do it, son!" – Flinching, Ron turned to his father. – Arthur glanced up from his newspaper and winked: "Your mother counted the cookies." - "I did not want to…..", Ron protested, but his father just smirked and went back to his newspaper: "All the better, heaven help us, even if only one cookie is missing."

The noises of the clattering pots from the kitchen reached his ears and Ron could literally feel, how his spirit broke. 'Postponed is not abandoned!', he decided and made a quick getaway.

* * *

Molly listened at the door to the nursery, where, unfortunately, her grandson did not stir. She looked out the hallway window into the garden, to make sure that the Qudditsch game was still in full swing, before she opened the door to the room. She tiptoed to James cot and observed the sleeping boy tenderly. Just as she reaches out her hand, to stroke his unruly hair, her husband shouted from below: "Molly, please come down!"

With bated breath, Molly waited for a response. But, besides a slightly shifting,

nothing happened. Apparently, James developed into a heavy sleeper, like his godfather. She crept out of the room and closed the door behind her. She used the Muffliato Charm, so that, James was not disturbed by noises from outside, but they could hear, when he woke up.

She stomped down the stairs and grumbled to herself: "Honestly, Arthur, do you.…"

"Molly, look who's there!", called her husband, who stood at the door to the living room, and waved her into the room.

When she saw, who was waiting there, she put her hands on her cheek and beamed: "Kingsley, now, this is an unexpected pleasure."

The tall black wizard, who had taken a seat opposite to her daughter-in-law, got up and smiled warmly: "I hope I'm not disturbing your family gathering, Molly!".

Molly tutted: "As you should know, you are always welcome, Kingsley.".

Arthur pointed to the sofa: "Why don't we sit down? It is much easier to talk.".

His wife studied her friend's face worried: "What happened?"

"Calm down, dear, I bet, everything is fine!" Arthur reassured his wife and put his arm around her shoulders.

Kingsley exchanged a glance with the wife of his assistants: "I assume, Percy told nothing?".

Audrey nodded, grinning: "He was as silent as a grave!".

He turned back to his longtime friends and said in his typical slow, deep voice: "I just came to bring your son the good news in person!"

"Arthur, what are you waiting for, call the boys into the house.", Molly cried excitedly.

Kingsley held up his hand: "Please do not! Your children deserve to play carefree, besides, I have time.". He looked through the window to the outside: "You can really be proud of your family!".

"Of every family member! Huh, Mollywobble?", replied Arthur proudly.

Molly gave him a wry smile and whispered to herself: "More or less!" She clapped her hands and got up: "Let's bridge the waiting time with cookies and a cup of tea. No ifs and buts, Kingsley.".

Arthur's eyes follow his wife, a crease formed on his forehead.

* * *

Although, Percy's Quidditch skills, to say the least, were dreadful, he managed, to his own astonishment, to gain some points for his team.

Admittedly, he owes it to his brother, whose performance as the keeper was today extremely bad.

Right now, Angie tossed the quaffle in the air and just as Harry was about to grab it, Ginny spun her broom, grabbing the quaffle out of the air, and head off towards Ron's goal posts. She faked left, and, Ron, who usually smelled such feint at 100 m distance, once again, failed his job. He do not manage, to defend his goal and stop the other team from scoring.

Percy cheered and George gave his sister a high-five, observed by the disappointed Harry. Angie flew to Ron and asked, concerned: "Are you really okay?".

"As I said, I'm alright!" Ron snapped angrily back.

"No reason, to bite my head off!", Angi responded snappy and flew, after a last hurt look at him, away.

Ron threw his head back and looked up at the sky. Angie was right, he was out of order.

He waved at Angie apologetically, who nodded, then he yelled across the pitch: "Let's called off the game." .

"You're giving up?", exclaimed George surprised.

"Yeah, I've got so much on my mind, I find it difficult to concentrate.", Ron confessed, as he flew down and hopped, as soon as he came close enough to the ground, off his broom.

"Excuses, nothing but excuses!", murmured his brother, who landed next to him. "But no matter, the better team, wait…". He sniffed: "Do you smell that too?"

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned his broom against the wall: "Let me guess, you smell the scent of the loser.".

George snickered: "This, also, but moreover, I smell freshly baked cookies!".

The boys looked at each other, before they wanted, of course, at the same, to rush into the house. George pushed Ron out of the way: "I smelled the cookies at first.". Harry seized the opportunity and forced his way through the door: "When two people quarrel, a third rejoices.".

Shaking their heads, the women followed them into the house.

* * *

As the famished men stumbled into the living room, scolded Molly: "At last. It was about time! The Prime Minister is waiting for ages.".

"Sorry!" came their apology in unison.

Kingsley rose from his seat and winked: "No worries, your mother exaggerates a little!". He turned to the hosts and asked politely: "May I speak with the man of the hour on my own? Somewhere undisturbed?". Molly clasped her hand over her mouth, to attenuate her cry of joy.

Arthur, who bounced James on his knees, suggested: "Of course, is best, you go into my shed."

"Thank you, Arthur.". Kingsley faced Ron: "Well, Ron, shall we go?" Ron's eyes widened and he swallowed hard, but nevertheless nodded.

George stopped his brother, just to give him a comradely slap on the shoulder. Stunned, Ron endured the gesture, and followed then Percy and the Minister outwards.

George whistled: "Now there's a thing!". He slumped in the now vacant seat and pulled his wife on his lap.

Thunderstruck, Molly looked into the space and whispered to no one specific: "I thought, it's about Percy promotion!"

Harry leaned against the wall and said nothing, while his wife sat down on the floor beside the chair of her father and asked her sister-in-law with curiosity: "So, spit it out, Audrey, why all this secrecy?" Sheepish, Audrey brushed a strand of hair behind her ear: "Sorry, Ginny, but it is not my story to tell!"

George smirked: "Perhaps I can help to satisfy your curiosity, Ginny!".

Surprised, she stared at him: "Do not tell me, you know, what it is about?".

"Not yet! But thanks to another brilliant invention on my part, we will be able, to hear, what is going on in the shed!". George nuzzled Angie's neck: "Baby, please reach into my pocket and get the ear out.". When Angie held the magical item in her hand, he proudly declared his latest invention: "This ear is, unlike our Extendable Ears, portable. And, as chance would have it, the counterpart is located on Ron's body….".

Harry's hand, which led a cookie to his mouth, stopped in the air: "Aha, therefore the pat on the shoulder!"-

George winked: "Quite right, Harry. I just have to pronounce the appropriate spell and voilá, we can hear, what is being said in the shed."-

"What are you waiting for?", grinned Ginny, her eyes shone with excitement.

George eyed his mother, but after she remained silent, he looked questioningly at his father. Shaking his head, Arthur sighed: "That would be wrong for so many reasons.".

His daughter looked at him with puppy eyes: "Please, Dad!".

Her father glanced down at his grandson, who – sucking on his thumb – could hardly keep his eyes open, and made no reply.

But Ginny did not give up: "Sooner or later, Dad, we will hear about it anyway!"

Finally, her father nodded, even though resigned.

Ginny turned at her brother, who hesitated: "Do it, George!" Shrugging, he circled his wand over the ear..….

– _crunch_ –

and began to mutter the necessary spell….

– _crunch – _

Irritated, he stopped and stared at Harry.

"Mwhaph?"Harry muffled, his mouth full of cookie crumbs.

"Shush! We cannot hear anything, when you munch so loud!", hissed his wife, upset.

Her husband swallowed the remaining cookie and pouted: "Show me a single person, who can eat a cookie noiseless!". He pointed at the ear: "Furthermore, we do not miss anything, am I right?!".

George gave an embarrassed laugh: "We are still in the development phase, maybe.….." He was interrupted by Kingsley's calm voice: "_So, Ron, what do you think_?" George threw a triumphant glance at his brother- in-law and placed his finger against his lips.

"_Honestly, Sir, I don't know what to say, I mean, wow!", Ron stuttered. _

"_I also prefer, to deliver for once good news." _

"_These are not just good, but fucking-fantastic news!"_

Outraged, Molly hissed: "For Merlin's sake, after all these years, he does not know how to speak properly in the presence of…..."

"_Ron, please do not forget, you're talking to the Prime Minister!", admonished Percy._

"At least one of our boys knows, how to behave!". Satisfied with the manner of her son Percy, Molly put her folded hands in her lap.

_Kingsley laughed: "Percy, it's all right. Besides, it is indeed fucking-fantastic!"._

At the scandalous behavior of her friend, Molly stared tight-lipped at the ear and aspirated a "Harrumph".

"_Even if I repeat myself, wow!" Ron's voice at the same time excited and awestruck._

_Kingsley laughed: "You've earned it!"._

"_You mean, __**WE**__ earned it. That was never a one-man job, without the help of Professor McGonagall and the other, this success would not have been possible. By the way, I need to spread the good news, and forthwith!"_

"_Wait, Ronald, before you go, I need to tell you something!", stopped him the Minister, now in a more serious tone._

"_Aha! I know it, this sounds too good to be true. There's a catch, Sir, isn't there?"._

"_It's about the designation of the Trust!". _

"_What about it?". Ron sounded confused._

"_They insist, that it is named…". Percy paused._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Harry-James-Potter-Trust!"_

"_What!", Ron yelled, clearly appalled. _Harry winced at the dismay in his voice.

"_They think, that willingness to donate, is higher, uh, if the trust carries Harry's name, Ron!". Percy tried to calm his brother._

_Unfortunately, without success. "Are they daft?", shouted his brother, "if I have a say in the matter, I will know how to prevent that."._

Ginny gasped.

_Shifting of feet could be heard and Percy's next words sounded now, as if he was standing right next to Ron: "Ron, please, take your time and think about it."._

"_I do not think about it – no, Perce, don't give me your shit calm-down-look!", growled Ron. _

A loud rustling was heard, a loud whistle, a crack and then dead silence.

"Well, I hope, that was not the second half of my prototype.", murmured George and looked, as if he had bitten on a sour lemon.

"Right now, I couldn't care less about your stupid prototype, but the feelings of my husband!", railed his sister fiercely.

All eyes turned to Harry, who glanced thoughtfully into the distance.

Molly pursed her lips: "That is the last straw, I will no longer tolerate Ronnie's jealous affectations. It's one thing, when his mind is poisoned by that thing…"

At one fell swoop, Harry awoke from his stupor and snapped his head in Ginny's direction: "Ginny, don't tell me, that you told your mother about it!".

Ginny avoided his gaze and fell silent.

Her husband buried his face in his hands and moaned: "This was between you and me!"

George snickered: "Between you and her and the bedpost, you mean!".

"George!" – "Sorry, mum. But seriously, what are we talking about?"

After a quick glance at her husband, Ginny faced George: "One of the Horcrux viciously taunted Ron with visions of his deepest fears.".

"Ginny!", exclaimed her husband, aghast.

His wife shrugged her shoulders: "Now it's too late anyway.". She continued: "Second best, always, eternally overshadowed, short, the full range of malevolence!".

"That sounds really bad!", Angelina murmured sympathetically.

Before Ginny could answer, Harry interjected and waved it off: "It was, but it has been a long time since then!".

"When Ron should destroy the object with the sword, Harry even thought for a split second, that Ron wanted to kill him.". Ginny could not resist to add.

Incredulous, her husband shook his head.

Ginny told him outright: "Do not deny, my darling, when you heard his reaction - I mean, he freaked downright out – you thought back to those days, I'm right?".

His guilty expression spoke volumes.

"He's always been so, already as a toddler!". Molly replied resignedly, whereupon Angelina and Audrey looked in silence at each other.

Arthur chimed in: "Why do not we wait for Ron and see, what he has to say before we jump to conclusions.".

At that moment, a beaming Ron entered the room, closely followed by his brother.

He stopped and asked Percy, amused: "Is it just my imagination or it's been here actually a icy mood?".

An awkward silence ensued.

Ron's grin faded: "What's the matter with you?"

His mother got up, her hands on her hips: "You mean, what's the matter with you?!".

"Molly!", scolded her husband.

Molly cut her husband off: "No, Arthur, I will not be silent. For weeks everyone in this family wrapped Ron in cotton wool, but here and now ends this.".

"What do you mean?", Ron asked, puzzled.

Grinning miserable, George lifted the portable ear in the height: "Let's say, we were close to the action! Um, you did not find, by chance, anything like that in Dad's shed?".

Confused, about the irritable mood on the part of his family, Ron asked: "If I understand correctly, you overheard our conversation, incidentally, very private conversation with this thing?".

"And that was a good, because now we know, that you are still envious of Harry's fame!", Ginny hissed angrily.

_Aha, so the wind blows!_

"How could you, Ronald Billius? You've really hurt Harry's feelings!", accused his mother him.

_W… what? _

Ron felt his temper flare, but he forced himself to calm down: "First of all, I don't begrudge Harry his fame and popularity, not anymore!". Muttering under his breath, he added: "Back then, I was virtually still a child!".

"A child? Do not make me laugh, to my knowledge, with seventeen you count as an adult!", mocked his sister.

Ron felt, as if he had received a violent blow in his stomach. His eyes rested on his friend, who avoided his gaze, by looking at the floor. Ron tried to swallow the lump, that had risen in his throat and croaked: "I'm used, that my mother thinks the worst of me….". He shook his head: "But that you, my so-called best friend hawked my mistakes around, I would have expected it least of all!".

"You cannot blame him..".

Percy, who stood shoulder to shoulder next to Ron, interrupted his sister in a low, dangerous voice: "If you've been following the conversation so animated, then you know why Ron reacted so negatively?".

George gave Percy a wry smile: "The connection to the other portable ear was interrupted, before the end of your meeting.".

Percy turned to Ron and demanded: "Tell them!".

Ron shrugged: "Why should I bother? Seriously, Perce, they think anyway, that I'm still the jealous and envious wizard from my childhood!".

"Then I will tell them – and you, Ron…" He held Ron by the sleeve, so that he could not escape: "stays also here!".

His brother, folding his arms over his chest, set his jaw and glanced out the window.

"I guess, you know already from the newly formed Trust of the Ministry." Percy did not wait for an answer and went straight away: "This trust will have the purpose, to support a variety of projects. Take, for example, the planned resocialisation project. This aims to help wizards and witches, who have strayed from the right path, to get back a foothold in society. Or the prevention project, which will try to reach young people, before they turn to the dark magic."

He took a breath and continued: "But all projects have one thing in common. Those seeking help must have confidence, that nothing happens to them! Now, Ron's concern comes into play. He is sure, a former Death Eater, would not seek help in an aid project, which bears the name of.." He stopped to make an air quote: "one of the most known and best Aurors of the wizarding world.." He looked straight into Harry's eyes and added: "Ron's words, not mine!"

He glanced back at Ron's rigid body: "Unlike, what you all think, Ron was only concerned about the matter and never about fame."

The following silence was broken by George: "You sure pulled a boner, Ginny!".

"I? You've started this stupid eavesdropping operation!", Ginny retorted snippy.

Ron's nostrils flared in anger and he growled through gritted teeth: "I do not give a damn, who and why jump to conclusions!". He faced his mother: "Now to you, mum. From now on, you stay out of my marriage, do you understand!"

Molly stiffened and hissed back: "Don't take that tone with me young man!".

"I speak, as I want!".

"Y..you cannot stop me from…" stuttered his mother.

Although, Elaine's words of warning still fresh in the memory, her son interrupted her with cold voice: "I can and will! And do you know, why? Namely, it is our business, how we handle our troubles. If it is necessary, to consult a marriage counselor or even an oracle, to get our problems under control, then so be it.".

Breathing heavily, he turned back to George, who backed away: "Did not you say lately, I resemble this Muggle-Guy – you know, large, red hair and feet, as long as a boat, same idiotic first name – Ronald…, George, please jog my memory, what's his name?".

"McDonald.", George muttered sheepishly.

Ron sniped with his finger: "Exactly, Ronald McDonald. Well, you're probably right, because, according to the crunching, I have destroyed your precious gadget with my oversized feet.". George opened his mouth, likely to made a stupid comment, but Ron stopped him in a sharp voice: "It would be wise, if you keep your mouth shut.". He closed his eyes for a moment, to regain composure, and said: "And now, please excuse me, so I can go get drunk!".

He turned on his heel and headed for the front door. As the door closed with a slam, James awoke from his nap and started to cry.

His still shocked mother gathered him in her arms and shushed him: "Ssh, ssh, Jamie!".

Arthur, who had been silent all the time, got up, took his jacket and went to the fireplace, where he grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"Where are you going, Arthur?", asked his wife worried.

Stepping into the fireplace, he called over his shoulder: "I'm going to apologize to my son.".

Harry, already with jacket in hand, hurried after him: "Can I come with you, Dad?".

Arthur nodded and waited, until Harry was standing beside him, before he shouted his destination. Through the green flames Harry took one last look at his wife, who lowered her eyes guiltily.

* * *

Ron looked gloomily above the water surface, when he heard the plop of an Apparition behind him. Without turning around, he grabbed a stone of the ground: "Leave me.." He threw the stone with all its fury into the sea and shouted: "damn it all, alone!".

"I promise you, son, I'll let you alone, but only after you've listened to me!", urged his father.

Ron stiffened and he gazed straight ahead: "I will not apologize, even if it means, I'm not allowed, to set foot in Burrow ever again.".

Arthur laid his hand on Ron's shoulder: "Do not worry, Ron, that will never happen!".

Ron snorted in disbelief: "I'm sorry, Dad, but we both know, Molly Weasley's word is law!"

Arthur Weasley squeezed his son's shoulder, before he dropped his hand, and replied thoughtfully: "Normally, I would agree with you, but after today, I think, I will, for once, bang my fist on the table and have a serious talk with your mother.". He nodded, as if he wanted to convince himself and said wisely: "Marriage is an adventure, like going to war!"

His son snickered: "True words were never spoken.". He held his index finger up: "But let me tell you, Dad, War with women is the only one, you win, by withdrawal.".

His father winked: "Maybe, I should consider a stratagem.".

Ron patted his father's shoulder: "Good luck with that, Dad." Arthur joined Ron's laughter.

When their laughter finally died down, Arthur became serious: "I'm sorry, that I do not stand up for you, that I've never told you, how proud I am of you, that you could not come to me with your troubles.". He faltered, clearing his throat: "If you had the impression, that I prefer the company of Harry and Hermione over yours."

Ron played down the issue and shrugged: "That's fine, Dad, I'm not exactly a role model of a son.…".

"NO, it's not fine!" Arthur scowled and repeated softly: "It is not fine! All children should be treated equally." He gave his son an insistently look: "You have to believe me, Ronnie, I love my children in the same manner!".

"I know, Dad." Ron rubbed his neck: "and I..uh, love you too!".

"Besides, I like you just the way you are!"

Ron began to enumerate: "Clumsy, stubborn, hot-headed…."

"Loyal, caring, a great friend and brother and not to forget…", he winked, "handsome like his father. All that makes you, Ron. You are unique and this is great. Understood!".

Blushing, Ron nodded.

Tensely, Arthur asked: "So, son, are we fine?"

His son beamed: "We are, Dad!"

Both men fell into silence, until Arthur pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, to blow his nose.

"So, my son, do you mean, we could put now another poor guy out of his misery." He jerked his thumb to the rear.

Ron threw a quick look over his shoulder. On a large stone sat Harry, who draw with a stick a symbol in the sand.

Arthur leaned toward him and whispered: "Do not be so strict with him. He knows all your favorite places, only for this reason, we have you tracked down as quickly. I think, that says a lot!".

As Ron remained silent, Arthur nudged him. Muttering to himself, Ron turned around and shouted: "What do you want, blabbermouth?" .From the corner of his eye Ron saw, how his father shook his head.

Looking up, Harry called back: "Are you talking to me?".

"I would hardly call my father blabbermouth, or?!".

Harry dropped the stick and got up: "I can live with it, I mean, with the blabbermouth, but I cannot….." His voice trailed off into whispers.

"What? Speak louder, I do not understand you from over there!"

Hesitantly, his friend approached him: "I said, I cannot live without your friendship!" He swallowed hard: "I'm sorry, that I told Ginny the story of the Horcruxe and its influence on your emotions."

Ron sighed: "Sooner or later, they would find out about it anyway. Much worse is, that you apparently believe, I still feel so!"

Harry lifted his arm: "Look, Ron, I know, there is no excuse, but put yourself in my place! Barely, that Kingsley mentioned, the trust should bear my name, you went off… like one of George's rockets.".

Ron grinned sheepishly: "Yeah, my darn temper!" He pointed to his red hair: "It comes with the color of my hair!"

His father, whose back facing them, huffed.

"So?"Harry reached out his hand and asked timidly: "Friends again?".

Ron ignored the hand and hugged his brother- in law-instead: "Come here, you sticky git!".

"I thought, I'm blabbermouth.".

Ron broke away from the hug and shoved him: "That too!".

Arthur rubbed his hands: "Okay, boys, before we freeze our butt's off, I suggest, we warm us up with firewhiskey! I know a nice little tavern, which should already be open.".

Harry nudged Ron and whispered: "Do not you think, Arthur is today a little.."

"Rebellious, do you mean?".

Grinning, his friend nodded.

Ron leaned over to him: "I cannot help myself, mate, but I like this trait, I like it even very much!".

"Side-along?", exclaimed Arthur questioningly and stepped between the two.

"Side-along!", shouted the boys simultaneously and placed their hands on his shoulder.

* * *

Arthur stumbled out of the fireplace and burped loudly. Chuckling, he plopped into his chair and stretched out his feet.

"Arthur Weasley, where you come from at such a late…". He interrupted his wife, who stood in her pink bathrobe, a gift from her daughters-in-law, in the door to the hallway, with hiccoughs.

She narrowed her eyes: "Are you drunk?".

He chuckled and held up his finger: "Drunk – no, but maybe a little bit tipsy.".

Shaking her head, she turned toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going?".

She stopped and snorted: "What do you think? I'll make you a Sobering-Poison, you unreasonable old man!".

"Please, Molly, come and sit with me.". When she hesitated, he added with puppy dog eyes: "Mollywobble, really, there is no hurry!".

Finally, she sat down on her regular seat, on the opposite of his chair, and looked at him questioningly.

"I may be an old man, but in contrast to our boys, I can hold one's Liquor!".

"The boys also.."

"Wretched, yeah.".

She rolled her eyes: "Then I'd rather make a lot of Sobering-Poison!".

"Do that! But first, Mollywobble, I need to get something off my chest."

His wife looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

He leaned forward: "The advantage of alcohol is, it loosens the tongue. Today, I learned more from my boys, especially from Ron, than in recent years.". He sighed and gave her a sad look: "Unfortunately, some not so nice incidents.".

"Incidents?"

"Yeah, for instance, do you say really to the old crow Muriel, that Harry holds a special place in your heart?"

Brows drawn together in thoughtful consideration, Molly looked at him.

Arthur gave her memory a jog: "On the Bill and Fleur's wedding day!"

"Oh, now I remember!". She nodded and waved her hand: "Muriel railed about Harry, again, and to stymie her, I told her this!".

"Well, Molly, you see, Ron was in the next room and had to overhear this!".

She clamped a hand over her mouth and gasped in horror.

"As you can imagine, this not exactly boosted his self-esteem, more so, if you believe, that your mother wishes Harry were her son, instead him. Is it any wonder, that he was jealous and…"

Sighing, he dropped the bomb: "thinks, he is not loved as his siblings.".

Molly let out a whimper, her eyes burning with tears: "This means, I'm to blame, that Voldemar's devilish locket had such an easy game with my Ronnie."

Arthur patted her knee: "No, Molly, I'm just as guilty. Since Harry set his foot in our home, I gave him more attention than my own son and did not realize, how miserable he became. Do not understand me wrong, I love Harry as my own son, but no more and no less.".

Sniffing, she whispered: "And you think, I feel differently?"

"I do not, but our son does. Do you realize actually, that, every time, he enters the Burrow, reproaches hailed down on him, while you mollycoddled Harry?" – She fidgets with the belt of her bathrobe. – "When you told him, the last time, that you love him, hmm?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She lowered her head and began to weep quietly.

He pulled her into his arms and rubbed her back: "Ssh, Mollywobble, ssh, don't worry, it's not too late, to straighten things out with him!"

* * *

Grinning, Seamus knocked on the door frame of Harry's office cubicle: "He has just arrived!"

Without looking up from his newspaper, Harry asked "How did he appear to you?"

"You mean other than arrogant, cocky, big-headed and la-di-da?".

"Hmm!".

"He's really, really pissed!"

"Good! Is the best, we let him stew for a bit. Is Ron already there?".

"He is on the way!".

"I'll be there in, let's say, 20 minutes."

"Alright, see you there!".

Harry nodded and flipped to the next page.

* * *

Harry and Ron used the advantage of the one-way-mirror, to observe an impatient David Whitaker. After David had looked at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time, Harry straightened his tie and muttered: "Okay, let's start the game!" Ron gave him a pat on the back: "Let's hope, he plays along.".

As soon, Harry opened the door to the interrogation room, David got up from the desk edge and growled angrily: "About time, Potter. I've been waiting for…" He stopped and watched, as Harry sealed the door with a locked-charm: "What are you doing? And where the fuck is my mandate?".

The small, soundproof "Interrogation and Confessions-Room" owned only three chairs (two for the Aurors, one for the suspect) and a desk, with nothing, except for the one-way mirror on the walls.

Harry threw a file on the desk and pointed to the uncomfortable chair, where usually the suspects are seated: "I suggest, Mr. Whitaker, you sit down, before we start the questioning!".

David turned instantly into the disgruntled lawyer and shouted: "You open instantly this stupid door or this will have consequences!".

Harry leaned back: "Fine, I have time!". Then he called over his shoulder: "Please note, 20:01 o'clock, Respondent refused any cooperation!".

Narrowing his eyes, David looked into the mirror: "Who is on the other side, I bet it is your sidekick Weasley!".

The young Auror remained silent.

Begrudgingly, David sat down and hissed: "Please note, that I comply this request only under protest!" – "Of course!" – "So, why am I here?".

"We'll get to that later, first, we follow the protocol." Harry opened the lid of the file: "Your name is David Elliot Whitaker?".

David hissed: "I warn you, Potter, do not treat me like a suspect!".

"I ask you again, your name…".

"Yes, my name is David Elliot Whitaker!", David said through gritted teeth.

"Born on May 13, 1976 in London?".

"That is correct!".

"You work since you're graduating as a lawyer in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?".

"For 4 years, to be exact.".

"According to the documents of the Portkey Office, which are available to me, you requested on August 07 a Portkey to Stockholm." Harry glanced up.

"Right enough!".

"The Portkey was used by yourself?".

"No, from my grandmother."

Harry gave him a stern look.

"Of course, from me!", hissed Whitaker, but added smugly: "As you know, Potter, I had to do an important matter in Stockholm!".

"Private or professional nature?".

David studied his fingernails: "Why you don't ask Mrs. Under Secretary, what she has to say?".

Harry tapped his fingers on the desk.

David winked and ran a finger over his lips: "Purely private.".

Harry stared down in the file: "Hmm, that's strange, as I see, that the costs for transport to Stockholm were paid by your department!".

On David's forehead formed a thin sheen sweat and he loosened his collar: "Merlin, Potter, lower the temperature a little, it isn't half hot in here!".

The Auror lifted his eyebrow: "If you have a problem with the room temperature, I suggest, that you answer my questions henceforth succinctly. The faster we bring the questioning behind us, the faster you can go back to your air-conditioned office.".

"Fine, let's get this over with, Potter!".

Satisfied, Harry nodded and resumed Whitaker's interrogation: "Interestingly, another employee, who, according to rumors, is a friend of yours, used on the same day a Portkey to Stockholm and the costs have also been taken over by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.". He glanced again down in the file: "Although he does not work for this department.".

David shifted in his chair nervously and remained silent.

"As a lawyer, you probably know, that expense-account abuses shall be liable to prosecution!".

David's eyelid twitched nervously: "Because of a few Galleons you want to use this against me?".

Harry raised his voice: "A few Galleons? Fraud is not a bagatelle, Mr. Whitaker! Let's pick up your buddy in crime and hear, what he has to say, whose idea…".

David quickly held up his hand, to stop him: "All right, Potter, that's enough. What do you want from me?".

"First of all, you pay back the travel expenses, from London to Stockholm and back and, of course, for both users!".

David, leaning back, stretched out his legs and waved casual: "Consider it done, Potter!".

"This is not all, you have to sign this.…" Harry took a document from the file and pushed it over the desk to David.

David's eyes scanned the document: "If you think, I sign this piece of bumph, you're terribly mistaken." He shoved the paper with his fingertips back to Harry's deskside.

Shrugging, Harry closed the case: "It's your decision. But I should warn you, from now on, I'll be watching all your steps closely. Another misstep and you can consider your career as terminated.".

"I could go public and talk about my rendezvous with our Mrs. Under Sectary, you know."

"And mess up your own careers? I thought, you were smarter, than this, Whitaker! You should keep in mind, that you can still pursue a career in the private sector, or, who knows, marry a girl from a good family. But if it comes out, that you are an cheater…". Harry shook his head doubtful.

David leaned forward and put his fists on the table: "That's blackmail.".

"Well recognized!". Harry stood up and grabbed his documents: "And now, you have to excuse me. I have to arrange a meeting with the your boss.".

Clenching his jaw, David picked up his letter of resignation and held out his hand: "Quill?"

Harry snapped his finger and a quill landed on the table: "Good decision!".

* * *

"I did not know that you're such a good actor, mate!".

Harry sniggered: "Nor am I!".

Seamus furrowed his brow: "How did you get the information with the Portkey? Normally you need a ten-page request with carbon is necessary, before the guys from the Portkey Office handing us something."

Ron put his arm around his shoulder: "Seamus, my old friend, to be honest, we did not contact the Department of Magical Transportation. Fortunately, we had help from his own department. Someone, who makes his expense report, gave us, let's say, a tip.".

"And how you knew from the other employees?".

"We already suspected, that he had an accomplice, someone who had to take the pictures. We had to poke around a little in his private life." Smiling, he winked: "This is what happens, if you feel too secure!".

Seamus lifted his beer mug and called: "To a successful plan, wild strategies and good actors!" Ron and Harry clinked their beer mugs with his.

* * *

"I messed up this time, right!"

"Well.."

Ron groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Yes, it would have been better to have a quiet conversation with her, but ..

Through his hands permeated a few muffled words that sounded like: "Emotional range teaspoon."

Puzzled, Elaine stared at him: "Sorry, what did you say?".

Hermione suppressed a smirk.

Her husband gazed through his spread fingers at Elaine and murmured: "It's nothing! You were saying…".

"At least, you stood your ground!"

Ron rubbed his neck and asked uncertainly: "You think so?".

Elaine, as well as Hermione, nodded in confirmation.

"It's not easy, when others butt in, I'm right?"

He sighed: "Tell me about it.".

"How would it be, if you could take a break from your family?".

"Heaven!" – "Bloody fantastic!" came prompt reply.

Elaine lifted her eyebrow: "So what are you waiting for?!".

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, before Ron turned back to Elaine. Clearing his throat, he asked hesitantly: "You mean, together?".

Elaine grinned: "I do not, think my husband will go for that. ".

Ron blushed.

Hermione twisted her wedding: "I could really use a little break!".

Ron furrowed his brow: "Would that not too soon?".

"I don't think, that a little vacation, does harm your relationship. On the contrary, outside the usual environment, it's easier to talk to each other!".

Hermione glanced at her husband shyly: "Friends of my parents own cottage near St. Andrews in Scotland."

Ron's eyebrows almost disappeared in the hairline: "Scotland?"

Her face closed and she gazed down at her hands: "It was only an idea!".

Elaine gave a pointed look at Ron, who faced his wife: "You know what? Scotland sounds great!".

* * *

Full of verve, Peter opened the front door for his son-in-law: "I will fetch my golf clubs out of the cellar and put them in the car, then we are ready to go!".

"You do not have to drive me, Peter, I can take a cap!".

Peter snickered: "You mean, a cab! But do not worry, today, our practice is anyway closed.".

"Ron, is it you?", shouted his mother-in-law questioningly from the kitchen.

Peter rolled his eyes and responded: "Who else?". He shoved Ron toward the kitchen: "You welcomed the women and I take care of the golf stuff.".

Frowning, Ron repeated: "Women? I thought Hermione waiting at the train station…" As he opened the door to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks: "Mum?".

His mother got up from her seat and smiled brightly: "Jean told me of your short break to Scotland.". She pointed to a package, which lay on the table: "And since I know how quickly you get hungry, I prepared a few sandwiches for the journey.".

"That was not necessary!", muttered Ron, but when Jean stood beside him and stepped on his foot, he hastened to add: "Thanks anyway!". He took the package and put it in his backpack, watched by the two women.

Ron did not feel comfortable in his skin and he coughed: "Well then, I…".

Fortunately, his father-in-law called out at that moment: "Ron, we can go!". But before Ron could turn around, he felt a hand on his arm, preventing him from leaving, and his mother asked sheepishly: "Do you think, if you get back, we can talk to each other, just the two of us?" Surprised, he looked down at her.

His father-in-law poked his head in the room: "Ron, I do not want to push, but the train is not waiting!".

"Coming!". He ran a hand through his hair and sighed: "Although I did not know why, but for my sake. As soon as I am back, I will come to the Burrow!". His mother nodded gratefully.

Jean insisted, to follow him out to the car, where she hugged him: "Have fun, both of you.." She winked: "Or even better, together!".

"I hope, you do not expect much from this trip, it is no second honeymoon, Jean!", recommended Ron and climbed into the car.

Juding by Jean's smirking, his objection fell on deaf ears.

* * *

The King's Cross railway station brimmed over with people, Harry James Potter, who was today one of them, pushed his shirt sleeves up, to have – as unobtrusive as possible – a look at his wristwatch. _You had better hurry, mate_!

He glanced up and smiled at Hermione: "You know Ron, he always comes at the last minute.".

Although Hermione smiled back at him, Harry could clearly see, it was forced: "Don't hold your breath, Harry, but I don't think, that he's coming!".

"He will!", retorted Harry stubborn.

Hermione pointed at the station clock: "Well, then he would arrive right…. ".

She broke off, when she saw, her husband on the last stage to the platform. In his mouth the ticket, a backpack strapped to his back and in his arm's he carried …. a golf bag? Arrived at the platform edge, he stopped and dropped the bag to the ground. Frightened, an elderly lady jumped scolding aside. Ignoring her, he took the ticket out of his mouth and studied it, brow furrowed.

Harry formed with his hands a hopper and shouted above the crowd: "Ron!". Confused, Ron turned searchingly around. When he recognized his friend, he puffed out his cheeks and let out a relieved breath, even visible from the distance.

After a triumphant glance at his female friend, Harry walked towards Ron.

"I nearly got into the wrong train.". Ron confessed with an embarrassed smile.

Hermione, who dragged her suitcase behind her, smiled: "Hi, Ronald!".

Ron's eyes darted from Harry to his wife, his eyes widened, when he saw her new short hair. "Hi, Herm…ione!", he stuttered.

Harry hastily covered up a giggle with a cough and pointed to the golf bag: "I did not know, that you're playing golf."

Ron, who looked still at Hermione, replied absent-mindedly: "Peter said, as Muggle-Man you can do only two things in Scotland, golfing or fishing. ". Finally, he got a grip and turned his gaze to the bag: "If I only had known, how unwieldy this stuff is, I had decided on the fishing rod.".

Harry chuckled: "Are you a wizard or what?".

His friend scolded: "It's a Muggle trip, therefore, no magic allowed!".

Harry dared to ask: " No wand and no flying with the broom?".

Ron nodded miserably.

Harry gave him a pat on the shoulder: "Shit, I wouldn't like to be in your shoes!".

Hermione rolled her eyes: "Honestly, Harry! Do not you think, He will survive a few days without his beloved broom!".

"Do you really expect an answer?", Harry asked with a grin.

The train guard stepped off the train and glanced along the platform.

"Come on, Ron, we have to go!" Hermione hugged her friend briefly and climbed up in the train.

Cursing, Ron picked up his golf bag.

"Do you need help?", Harry asked, quite innocently.

After a moment of consideration, Ron pressed the bag of golf clubs into Harry's arms: "You can take the stuff with you. I pick it up, when I get back.". He followed his wife in the train and waved at him from the stairs.

The train guard lifted his hand and raised his pipe to his mouth.

A whistle later, Harry stumbled towards the nearest toilet, glad that the no-magic-ban did not apply to him.

* * *

Ron grabbed Hermione's bag and stowed it, together with his backpack, in the luggage compartment. With the aid of his reflection in the window, Hermione observed him unabashedly.

He turned around and their eyes met in the window: "So, new haircut." He sat down on the empty seat opposite her and asked curiously: "How come?".

She saw him straight in the eyes, looking forward to his response: "It was time for a change. Do you like it?".

Ron looked out the window and grumbled: "Hmm, it suits you."

"Aha!" Disappointed by his answer, she opened her purse and took out a book.

"I cannot hope, that the Trolley Lady comes along, huh?"

Hermione responded, without looking up from her book: "The trolley lady is a witch and crew member from the Hogwarts Express. So to answer to your question, yes, you cannot hope.".

"A simple no would have sufficed!", grumbled Ron. He stood up and rummaged in his backpack.

"What are you doing?"

"My mother prepared a food parcel for us.". He glanced down at her: "Do you want…".

She waved: "No thanks, I had a full breakfast!"

He sat back down and removed the paper: "Me too, still, I'm already ….". He stopped and moaned.

She glanced up and asked with concern: "What's wrong?".

He showed her the spread: "Corned Beef!" Judging by his expression, he vacillated between disappointment and disgust.

Shaking her head, Hermione turned back to her book. According to the rustling of paper, Ron renounced his second breakfast.

"I could offer you an apple or a banana."

"Are you serious?"

She turned the page of her book and replied: "Of course! Then it won't be my fault, if you suffer a death by starvation!".

"Very funny!", Ron grumbled and said nothing, until the last stop.

* * *

During the journey to the cottage, their taxi driver, did not miss the opportunity, to rave about of his hometown St. Andrew: "I swear, St. Andrew is one of Europe's finest towns." He glanced in the rearview mirror and winked: "And the ideal place for love and dreamy dates!".

Hermione smiled back and glanced briefly at her husband, who sat, straight-faced, next to her. She leaned forward a little and whispered conspiratorially to the driver: "I think, my husband is more interested at the Kingsbarns Distillery and their Visitor Centre.".

"I cannot blame him, their single malt whiskey is simply divine.". He laughed. "But honestly, St. Andrews has so much to offer. Take, for example, our historic sites. Blackfriars Chapel, Chapel of St Mary on the Rock, Martyrs' Monument and so much more.".

Hermione's eyes lit up: "St Andrews Castle, West Port, Whyte-Melville Memorial Fountain…". She sighed happily.

"Like I said, you will never want to go home.". He left the road and drove towards a stone built cottage: "And there it is, your lovely home for the next few days.".

Hermione grabbed her husband's hand, so enthusiastic about the environment, that she did not even notice, his surprised look.

* * *

"The key is hidden in a stone? Don't they know, how reckless that is?", scolded Ron.

His wife, who thought it was better to say nothing, lifted the deceptively real-looking stone up and took the key out.

Shaking his head, he growled a word, which, in his eyes, apparently explained everything: "Muggles!".

Hermione smirked, she was so cheerful,, nothing couldn't spoil her mood, not even a crabby Ron, and pointed to a sign over the front door: "Welcome, step inside and bring good luck with you.".

Ron snorted: "They can be happy, if the furniture has not been stolen."

Hermione opened with the key the door lock and looked over her shoulder at him: "I think, it is very unlikely, that thieves put back the key – after the pilferage!". And added mockingly: "Worrywart!".

Silently, Ron followed his wife into the cottage, inwardly cursing, that both were completely defenseless without their wands.

She went ahead in the kitchen and gushed: "Look, open shelving and the painted cabinets, is not this lovely?!".

Ron grimaced: "Charming? You say always, open shelves collects the dust.".

In the living room, she was enthusiastic about the setting up: "You can tell, it's been equipped with attention.".

Ron glanced at the cold fireplace: "Is it cold in here!".

As she stepped into the last room, the bedroom, she remained rooted to the spot.

Ron looked over her shoulder into the room: "What's wrong?".

"Only one bedroom, moreover, with a double bed!". She groaned out.

Muttering under his breath, Ron turned back in the living room: "I'll take the couch.". Full of self-pity, he regarded his sleeping place and plopped down his backpack next to the couch. With a sigh, he sat down and pressed with his hand tentatively on the pad surface. _Wonderful, too short, too soft_.

"I'll let you take the bed!", Hermione cried out of the bedroom.

"No way. I know, what is proper!", he shouted back and added quietly: "Although, I may not be a gentleman like dumbass Whitaker!".

He winced, when he heard his wife's voice near him: "I just think, that the couch is too short for you.".

He avoided her eyes and said: "That'll go off all right for the few nights.".

When he could no longer bear the silence, he jumped up and announced: "I think, I'll go for a walk!".

Hermione, head leaning on the door frame, gazed sorrowfully into the distance.

He coughed: "Uh, it's okay, if I clear out my backpack afterwards?".

She awoke from her reverie and frowned: "Sorry, I was lost in thought. You were saying?".

"I will go and stretch my legs!".

Worried, she looked out the window: "Judging by the look of the sky, I don't think, that's a good idea.".

"Hermione, I was born and grew up in Britain, a little rain does not bother me!".

She pushed away from the door frame and shrugged her shoulders, resignedly: "Knock yourself out!".

He nodded and rushed out of the house.

* * *

When Hermione some time (and a downpour) later the door heard, she brushed hastily her tears away and called questioningly: "And how was your walk?".

Ron, soaked to the bone, remained standing in the doorway and grunted: "Wet!". When Hermione was about to open her mouth, he raised his hand and stopped her: "You can save your I-told-you-so!".

Teeth chattering, he looked around: "Have you seen my backpack?".

"Your clothes are in the closet and fresh towels in the bathroom!". He did not need to know, that she seized the opportunity, to bury her nose in his sweater for several minutes – and that only to inhale a whiff of his scent.

He nodded gratefully and disappeared into the next room. leaving puddles behind him.

Out of habit, Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand. "Shit!" Startled, she clasped her hand over her mouth and looked sheepishly at the bathroom door.

* * *

As she wiped the floor with a mop, she heard a girlish scream from the bathroom. That could only mean one thing: Spider! For a moment, she wondered, if she should offer him her help, but decided against it.

A while later he came back, a little pale around the gills, but in dry clothes.

"How was the hot shower?", she teased him.

"As long as there is a spider, I'll go without it". He growled: "I swear, these monsters here are ten times larger than at home!".

She had to bite her lip, to keep from laughing: "Poor Ron. Hey, what do you think about a walk in the village. Our taxi driver said, there is a very cozy restaurant with delicious food.".

"A walk? Again?". He made a face.

She waved with the guidebook: "According to the guide it's only a short walk from here.".

"I'm still completely frozen!".

"Blame yourself, if you forego a hot shower, only because of a small spider!".

"I already said, it was not a small spider, the monster was as large as my palm.".

"And pigs might fly!", she murmured annoyed.

He narrowed his eyes: "What?".

"Nothing!". She threw the guide on the table and stood up: "I want to see the large spider with my own eyes!"

"Are you saying, I lie?"

"If the shoe fits, wear it.".

Ron's nostrils quivered: "That's rich, coming from you!".

In the incoming silence only the heavy breathing of the two opponents could be heard.

"You know what, I've enough!" She stormed past him into the bedroom and pulled her suitcase from the closet. She stopped and pointed to the bed: "You can look forward, from now, the bed is all yours."

"What do you mean?".

She gave him a dirty look: "I cannot take it anymore, your whining, your bad mood, and not to forget, that you keep reminding me about my mistake!".

He folded his arms over his chest: "You cannot go!".

"Why not?" Very Hermione-unlike, she tore her clothes out of the closet and threw them literally in her suitcase.

"Because…, because tonight goes no train!".

"So what? There are car rental companies, even here in St. Andrews!".

She zipped up her bag up and wanted to walk through the door, but Ron blocked her passage with his arms.

Angry, she brushed with her sweater sleeves her tears away: "Let me through the door instantly!".

"No!".

"Why not? Let's face it, you were anyway do not enthusiastic about this idea. It should also not matter to you, if I break off this trip."

He did not move aside.

"You unforgiving, overbearing ass, move!".

Ron folded his arms over his chest: "I will give you the overbearing, but I deny, that I'm unforgiving!"

"Are you not?", she scoffed. "You'd touch me with a barge pole, let alone, …".

He lifted her chin and wiped with his thumb the remaining tears from her cheeks.

"…. kiss me for no money in the world, because another..".

Ron leaned over and covered his lips with his, stopping her rant.

Hermione pushed him away and stuttered: "What..why..I..you..Are you crazy?".

He put his hands on either side of her face: "If, then about you!", and slammed his lips against hers.

This time, she did not hesitate and stood on her tiptoes, putting her arms around his neck, and pressed herself against him, trying to kiss him more deeply.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Both groaned at this contact. Hermione coaxed his mouth open, slipping her tongue into his mouth and deepening the kiss. Suddenly, Ron mumbled something under his breath, that his wife couldn't make out. She broke their kiss with a gasp, breathing heavily: "Huh?". Panting, he rested his forehead against her and chuckled softly: " .breath!".

Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she teased: "No condition?".

He rubbed his cheek against hers, his beard scratching her face slightly, and asked: "Shall I show you how fit I am?".

"Yes, please!". she murmured breathlessly and pulled his head down, her lips sought his hungrily. Walking backwards, he returned her kiss passionately, until he bumped with knees into the bed. She laughed into his mouth and he muttered in a husky whisper something like 'out of practice'.

Slowly, he settled down and Hermione shifted, straddled him with her knees. When they did break apart with a gasp, he rested his forehead against hers, as she swallowed his little gasps of breath and he hers. She met his eyes and he whispered, slightly panting: "Maybe we should talk.." – She wrinkled her nose "Talking is overrated, do not you think?".

"Absolutely!". He kissed her, again, but more deeply and his hand slipped under her shirt, sliding over the skin of her back up to her shoulder and back. At the hem of her shirt he stopped, searching her eyes with an unspoken question. Her raised arms, was enough of an answer. He twisted the hem in his fists and slipped her sweatshirt along with her undershirt over her head.

She bent forward, running her tongue along the rim of his ear and sucked his earlobe in her mouth, breathing hotly into it: "My turn!". She could hear his responding breath deepening in her own ear, slight moans escaping him. She removed his sweater, dropped it to the ground. Shaking her head, she regarded his shirt, a little frustrated.

"I felt cold!", Ron defended himself and lifted his hands, to unbutton his annoying shirt. Scolding, she pushed his hands away: "That's my job!".

He placed his hands on her waist, as she released the first button with slightly trembling hands. Finally, the last button was freed and her fingers gliding between fabric and skin, to push his shirt open. Satisfied, she ran her hand over his muscled chest and felt the fine hairs there tickling her palm. Ron swallowed and clenched his jaw, as she scratched his right nipple with her nails. She laughed softly, and repeated the process with the other nipple.

As his thumb brushed over her ribs, he frowned. To have a close look at her, he pulled back: "What?! Shit, why are you so thin?".

"It's okay!". Hermione wanted to soothe (and perhaps to distract) him with a kiss, but Ron, filled with consternation, was persistent and turned his head to the side: "No, it's not ok, you've always been too thin and now… I can feel your ribs, muffin!".

"I did not feel hungry lately.", she confessed sheepishly in a small voice. He regarded her, his expression full of conflict: "From now on I'm going to feed you up with pancakes, and other tasty treats, understood!".

Nodding, she ran a finger over his cheek, the rough stubble on his cheeks thrilled her: "It's a bargain! But I have also a good idea, how I can work up my appetite and at the same time show you, that I still have any curves in the right place…". She reached her hands back, to unclasp her bra, her gaze never leaving his. "Voila!" She removed the straps from her shoulders and threw the bra carelessly behind her. Ron licked his lips and his eyes dark with passion. Smiling deviously at him, she took his hands and placed his palms on her breasts: "See, my boobs still there!".

Instantly, he gently caressed her breast and she closed her eyes. Finally, he moved his hands aside and flicked his tongue over her nipples, make her gasp with pleasure. Her hands caught his head, to hold him there.

She rocked her hips in the way, that always made his breath catch. Her mind began to spin and her need, to feel him without any clothes against her, became too much for her. She pushed him back and touched him through his jeans. Rewarded with a deep moan, she rolled aside and braced herself up with one hand, to open his jeans button. After a look through her eyelashes at his flushed face, she carefully lowered his zipper. Hastily, Ron began, to toeing off his boots.

As Hermione took hold of his jeans at the waist, he lifted his hips and Hermione pushed his jeans downwards to his knees. For the rest of the way down his legs, Ron took over. He worked them down and kicked them away, the jeans and his shirt ended up next to the bed.

She brought her lips back to his and covering his body with hers, resting her warm weight on his, as they kissed urgently. His hands moved over her hip and down one of her legs.

Ron heard the quick rasp of her breath against his ear, as he flipped his wife over. He hovered above her and the muscles in his arms flexed, as he held his weight. Hermione raised her hips slightly letting him peel the dark jeans and her knickers from her legs. They soon joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

Their trembling breathing seemed to get louder in the quiet room and Ron pressed his weight onto her. He brought his lips to hers, his tongue dancing with her own, teasing just inside her mouth. His hands were all over her body, caressing her neck, shoulders, breasts, waist, and hips. Hermione tugged at his boxer and Ron was more than happy, to oblige and pushed, with one hand and the help of his impatient wife, his boxer down.

He stroked her gently and his lips found her nipples. Hermione gasped and arched with the rhythm of his touch: "Please!", she begged and guided him to her entrance.

However, he stopped and breathed into her ear, through clenched teeth: "Are you really sure, it's a good idea?"

"Yes!" She murmured back.

That was all it took. He slowly pushed inside of her, moaning at her tightness. She wrapped her legs around his waist and raised herself up to meet his hips with her own, sighing at the sensation of him filling her completely.

He lay still on her and waited for a sign from her. Finally, she ordered, gasping: "Move!".

He thrust into her, lifting himself up on his arms to change the angle slightly. She clutched at his bared ass and pulled him to her, arching against the bed at the delicious slide of him inside of her again and again.

Both whispering sweet nothings to each other, as he picked up his speed, driving his hips into hers. Hermione's moans became louder and she felt her approaching climax.

Now that Ron was close to his own climax, his thrusting grew more frantic and his breath came heavier, he gripped her waist and moved his hips with hers, thrusting deep once, twice more, before both screamed in blissful release.

They collapsed together and Ron rolled over, to allow Hermione to catch her breath. Their panting breaths were only audible to the other, Hermione's face was completely flustered and she looked at him with half-lidded eyes.

Ron shifted his position and pulled her toward him, so that they were in a spooning position. "Bloody hell, that was phenomenal.". He pressed a feather light kiss to her neck and whispered: "I love you!".

Hermione turned in his arms and asked in a shaky voice: "Say that again!".

Frowning, Ron acted, as if he would have to consider: "You mean, bloody…"

She put her hands around his face and demanded: "The other one! Say it again!".

He became serious and stroked her cheek: "I love you, Hermione Jean Granger-Weas….".

She captured his lips, kissed him long and hard, while she was crying and laughing at the same time. Hiccoughing through her tears, she scolded, but not too seriously: "About time!".

* * *

Hermione let the tips of her fingers slip beneath the blanket, grazing the supple flesh of her husband butt. Ron could feel the pressure of a hand on his lower back, as warm lips caressed his neck. His eyes fluttered open, as her lips started her way downwards.

Just above his buttocks, she devoted herself intensively with a particular point of his body.

"Freckle?". He asked in a drowsy voice, finally, he knew how much his wife worshiped his freckles.

"Nope, dimple!", she replied, giggling.

Leaning on his elbow, he craned his neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the point. Pouting, he claimed: "I do not have dimples, let alone there!".

She gave him a playful smack on the bottom: "As your wife and by the way, the only woman, how saw you naked,", she stopped and grinned mischievously, "other than your mum of course!".

He moaned: "Please, do not use naked and mum in a sentence.".

"Do not interrupt me, you rude man, I know your body as my own, maybe even better. So when I say, you have a dimple…". She kissed the said point: "there, then there is a dimple!".

Closing his eyes, he muttered: "If you say so!". He buried his face into the pillow.

Hermione leaned toward him and whispered in his ear: "Did not you promise me a lot, lot, lot…".

He perked up and was suddenly wide awake: "Hmm!".

She jumped off the bed and pulled the bedspread off him: "Pancakes!"

* * *

Relaxed, the couple enjoyed the afterglow after their passionate love-making round. Hermione's head rested on his chest and her fingers tracing patterns on his belly, while Ron stroked her back.

Hermione sighed deeply.

"I hear you thinking up to here, muffin, what's going on in your smart head?".

She turned her head, to face him and a small, somewhat embarrassed smile graced her lips: "I just thought, that I want this!".

Frowning, he asked, confused: "You mean, a Cottage in St. Andrew?".

She circled with her finger one of his nipples: "A cottage like this, but with a study room…"

"Not to forget a library.". He tweaked her nose.

She took his hand and kissed his palm: "Two bathrooms, four or five bedrooms, a Quidditch field behind the house!".

He smiled dreamily: "My own Quidditch field – that would be… wait, why do we need four or five bedrooms?"

"For our children, of course!", she said as a matter of course.

"Of course!", he repeated, a little overwhelmed, at the thought.

Naturally, his wife noticed his discomfort instantly and asked, worried: "You want children, Ron, do not you!?".

He gulped and stuttered: "Children, as more than one child?" She nodded. Horror-struck, he already saw himself surrounded by a bunch of red-haired children.

"I'm an only child and have always envied you for your siblings.". She gazed off into the distance, a tender smile on her lips, and turned back to him: "So, yes, I want more than one child, at least one girl and one boy!". She bit her lip continued haltingly: "Not immediately, finally, we just got back together again, but in one year, we could start with the trying! Do not you think?". She stared at him expectantly.

"My parents need 6 attempts, until they had their girl!", he reminded her, voice cracking.

She wrinkled her nose and thought for a moment: "Alright, let's say, our limit is 3 children!".

Ron breathed a sigh of relief, but inquired: "If after three boys we do not have girls, that's it, right?".

She grinned: "Maybe we are blessed with girls!".

"Then we have to reconsider our family planning!", he replied deadpanned.

She pinched his nipple.

"Ouch! Way to treat to the father of his future children?". He laughed heartily.

She beamed: "So you're okay with that?".

"Uh-huh!". He winked: "I also look forward to the whole baby-making procedure.".

Ron's breath hitches, as Hermione's fingers wander southward: "Hmm, what do you think about a little practice?".


End file.
